#for now we do both until one is chosen as the one true gideon

[domibomz]

Where is the 'Harrow ALSO being an annoying girlfriend' content ft. @ghostsessioned 's harrow

#tlt #the locked tomb #my art #shitpost #griddlehark #harrow nonagesimus #gideon nav #i also cannot decide if i like slicked back hair gideon more or messy fringe hair gideon more #for now we do both until one is chosen as the one true gideon

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 12

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword. 

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well. 

It isn’t really funny at all.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,704 (good lord I’m tired...)

Warnings: angst, swearing, one brief moment of sexual harassment, lots of assumptions made, Dark Din returns and some familiar characters make themselves known

Author Note: Believe me I want Din and Cupid reunited as much as all of you do, but my dark side keeps saying just stretch it out a little bit longer 😈 All the love to each and every reader out there, the support you give me keeps me sane and happy each week ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 11 and Part 13

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You wipe furiously at your face, smearing tears across your cheeks, while inwardly cursing yourself for showing weakness in front of Gideon. A lump forms in your throat as you replay the last sixty seconds on loop in your head, imagining exactly how Din will react to each sentence, especially those last two words: let go. This will be the one and only time you’re thankful you can’t feel Din’s half of the bond. If he’s feeling even a smidge of the throbbing, torturous pain you’re feeling right now, experiencing both sides would have overwhelmed you. Of all the commands Gideon could have chosen, why would he choose to taunt Din with that one? It’s as if the Seraph is purposefully trying to piss Din off.

Maybe he is insane, you think, not for the first time, just as he starts to clap his hands together in applause.

“Well done,” Gideon says, almost in admiration. “You’re a much better actress than I imagined you’d be.”

“It wasn’t an act,” you snap back.

“Regardless, you’ve served your part well.” He reaches forward to pat your head, and you honestly deserve an award for not giving into the urge to break his hand. “If it would make you feel better, I could make you forget this moment ever happened. Should I require you to send a second message, it would certainly make it all the more bittersweet for you to think it was your first attempt.”

His words make no sense at first, and you merely sit there in the chair blinking back at him, some distant part of you aware of how your eyelashes are still wet and stuck together. Involuntarily, you find yourself recalling Din’s reaction to your memory loss, how he had muttered under his breath he thought someone was responsible for the blank spots. Your mouth falls open in shock as Gideon’s meaning clicks.

“You...You tampered with my memories?” you whisper.

“It wasn’t personal. There are holes in every Cupid’s head.”

Why would he use his powers so cruelly and invasively? How does he choose which memories to erase? These questions and more run through your head, but you don’t voice them aloud. Everything you’ve heard about and actually seen in person about Gideon has solidified your opinion he is a certifiable control freak. Of course he would use his memory-erasing ability to further establish his position of authority amongst the Cupids.

Your eyes drift to the Cupid twi’lek behind him. “Is that why she’s here? You brainwashed her into joining you?”

“I made my own choice,” she replies, tone as sharp as the knife she twirls with nimble fingers. It doesn’t gleam like metal, instead faintly sparkling just like your arrows do. Kyber crystal, you realize with a chill of uneasiness. “You don’t see me in a collar, do you?”

“Indeed, I cannot alter memories, only erase them. It was free will that brought Xi’an to me, not manipulation,” Gideon says with a smile, but his eyes glimmer in a way that makes your throat close up with fear. “She has become a loyal and valuable ally.”

Valuable. One word and your suspicions are confirmed. Collared or not, Xi’an is just as much a toy for Gideon to play with as you and Din are. The only difference is she doesn’t seem to realize she is one. Or, and this is a dangerous possibility, she does know and simply doesn’t give a damn.

“She’s your ally?” you echo, nervously licking your lips. “What does that mean?”

“She has dedicated herself to the achievement of my goal.”

You know he’s purposefully baiting you, but still you find yourself asking, “And that goal is?”

Gideon leans forward, invading your personal space even as you jerk backwards in your seat. The smile has been wiped from his face, replaced with narrowed eyes and a twisted scowl. He deliberately presses the unlit laser sword against the middle of your chest in the space between your breasts, thumb teasingly hovering over the activation button.  

When he answers, you’ve never heard anyone else speak as seriously as him.

“To finish what I started.”

The words linger in the air the same foreboding way Din’s reapers linger around hospitals. You don’t realize you’re not breathing until Gideon steps back after several pounding heartbeats pass and your lungs are on fire. You suck in a breath of relief, but your body remains tense, recognizing the dangerous situation you’re still stuck in.

“Mayfeld,” Gideon addresses the man armed with three guns who immediately straightens. “Take her back to her cell.”

You don’t resist as Mayfeld grabs you by the upper arm and tugs you out of your seat. It’d take a miracle to incapacitate him and everyone else in the room before they subdued you. No, you can’t make any rash decisions. The right moment will come, you tell yourself. It has to.

...Right?

“So, what’s it like being Death’s soulmate?”

You’re jerked out of your thoughts by Mayfeld’s voice. You side-eye him, keeping your mouth firmly shut.

“I mean, I’ve heard he never takes off the helmet,” he continues, unbothered by your silence. “But surely you must’ve seen what’s underneath there. If it were me, I’d definitely wanna know the face of the guy I’m allegedly destined to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Allegedly?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not so much a believer in fate or destiny or true love. And now that I know the guy who’s the boss of Cupid operations?” He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Forget about ever trying to convince me the universe has a mortal’s best interests in mind when it allows a Seraph as bat-shit crazy as the Moff to have the power he has.”

“If you think he’s insane, why do you work for him?”

“The pay’s good,” he answers with a laugh. “Plus, if he really does pull off this plan of his, well...let’s just say I’d rather be in his corner than anywhere else.”

“You do realize though that anyone in Gideon’s corner is an enemy of Death’s?” you say, half-taunting him half-genuinely curious about his reaction.

“That thought has recently crossed my mind,” is all he replies.

The conversation comes to a halt when you arrive back at your cell. Mayfeld pushes you inside, but the force is noticeably gentler than the thug who had manhandled you earlier. Standing near the pallet, you watch as he digs a remote out of the pocket of his pants and activates the laser grid with a single press of a button.

Interesting.

You expect Mayfeld to immediately return to Gideon’s side, so you’re surprised and more than a little confused when the man continues to linger. A minute of silence ticks by and your confusion changes to frustration. What does he want?

Just as your mouth opens to snidely voice the question, the baby chooses that precise moment to sneak back into your cell. Your heart leaps into your throat as you rush forward to grab him, torn between forcibly shoving him back into the hole or foolishly attempting to hide him behind your back.

“There’s the little green guy,” Mayfeld says, and you pause at the audible note of cheerfulness in his voice. The baby coos in your arms, waving his hand in the man’s direction.

They kriffing know each other?

Mayfeld notices your bewildered expression. “What? You think none of us noticed he doesn’t like staying put? We might be mercenaries, but we’re not complete idiots.”

“You’re a heartless bastard,” you spit, holding the baby tighter against your chest. “He’s a baby and you’re doing nothing to get him out of here.”

“First of all,” he counters, holding up a finger. “Ouch. And second,” he points that same finger directly at the baby, “that little guy is older than me so calling him a ‘baby’ isn’t exactly fair.”

Your eyes sweep over Mayfeld, estimating him to be at least forty. You then look at the green face smiling back at you. Yeah, there’s no way he’s telling the truth.

“You’re a liar.”

“Maker, the hits just keep on coming.” Mayfeld rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie about his age?”

“I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse.

“Exactly.” He nods smugly. “Look, he fooled me, too, with those big brown eyes of his. If I hadn’t witnessed what he can do when that collar’s off, I might have been suckered into releasing him. He’s cute, sure, but he’s also secretly a menacing gremlin.”

You frown. “What do you mean you’ve seen what he can do?”

“I mean he’s got powers. He can lift things with his mind, throw men against walls five times his size like they weigh nothing. What’s worse is he uses those powers to steal. I had a pack of cookies I was saving and he levitated them right out of my pocket.”

Your disbelief falters at that last bit. You had already surmised the baby had stolen the cookies, but not like this. Looking down at him again, the collar stands out more prominently than ever before. Xi’an told you they were purposefully designed to prohibit the use of powers. Why else would the baby wear one if he didn’t possess some type of special ability?

“You really have some serious trust issues, don’t you?” Mayfeld says, almost sounding impressed by your stubborn reluctance to believe him.

“I’m currently being held hostage by a psychopath,” you retort. “I think I’m allowed to be suspicious of a mercenary who says everything that pops into his head.”

His lips purse. “Alright. That’s a good point.”

“Isn’t it risky?” you ask, stepping closer to the gate. “Sharing all this information with me?”

“Only if you don’t appreciate the value of it all.”

Your brow furrows, not understanding.

“Look,” he lowers his voice meaningfully. “One way or another, Gideon and Death are gonna face each other and only one side will win. Gideon wins, great. Status quo unchanged. But if your soulmate wins?” He grimaces at the prospect. “By talking to you, I’m trying to cover all my bases here.”

Your brain works rapidly to fill in the blanks. “So, let me get this straight. You think that by getting on my good side, Death won’t murder you?” A wide grin stretches across your face, not the least bit friendly. “Oh, honey, you’ve got to do so much better than that. With what you’ve given me so far, the only kindness he’ll spare you is ripping your throat out quickly so you don’t suffer long.”

Take the bait.

“Oh, yeah?” A flicker of nervousness flashes across his face. He shifts his stance, arms crossing over his chest. “What would I have to do to not have that happen? I’m, uh, open to suggestions.”

Good, good, good.

“You get me the keys to these collars, I can guarantee you’ll walk out of here with every limb attached and not one drop of blood spilt.”

A long beat passes wordlessly. It would be completely silent if not for the baby’s quiet whining as he cuddles against you, unsettled by the tense atmosphere.

“You’re not the only one with trust issues,” Mayfeld says at last. “Maybe you can guarantee Death won’t kill me, but how do I know you won’t kill me with your bow yourself?”

You say nothing, not because you’re guilty of thinking of that specific scenario, but because you don’t know how to convince him you haven’t considered it. Anyone else in your same predicament would undoubtedly shoot him the first chance they got. He is an enemy after all. A minor one, true, but nevertheless contributing to the effort of keeping you separated from Din. He also clearly only has his own self-interest in mind, making him unpredictable and untrustworthy. Who’s to say he won’t attempt to double-cross you somehow?

All these reasons are valid and should make you hate him, but something inside of you isn’t allowing you to commit wholeheartedly to the feeling. And as much as it pains you to admit it, you know that ‘something’ is fear. You’ve never killed anyone before. Shot someone with an ichor arrow? Yes, several times, but not once was the wound fatal. As your list of escape options continues to dwindle though, you’re terrified of the possibility you’ll have no choice but to personally be responsible for ending someone’s life.

“There’s my answer,” Mayfeld says. His words are distressingly ambiguous, but it’s the way he bobs his head in a decisive manner and turns his back on you that causes your stomach to tie itself into knots.

Throat suddenly dry, you struggle to choke out, “Wait, I—”

He starts whistling an upbeat tune as he walks away, ignoring your attempts at reclaiming his attention. You listen hopelessly as the sound gradually grows farther and farther away, until eventually all you can hear is silence.

And once more, it’s just you and the baby alone in the cell.

~~

You lie on the pallet, staring up at the ceiling with the baby sleeping on your stomach. You reflect on everything that has happened since you left Arvala-7, taking every moment apart piece by piece to figure out what you know.

From what you’ve witnessed, you don’t think your superiors are involved in or even aware of Moff Gideon’s plans. Lang, Hess, and Morgan were his associates, not allies like he’d called Xi’an. The difference is subtle, but profound in meaning. You wonder if the three of them have had memories erased too, if they know Gideon was responsible.

He had told them you were being hidden away to prevent other Cupids from knowing you had a second soulmate, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Gideon wants you as his hostage because you’re Din’s soulmate. He wants to use you as leverage to get Din to do what he wants. Initially, you assumed that meant kill those who Gideon considered enemies, but that assumption was proven incorrect when you sent the message to Din without naming even one potential target.

Unfortunately, you think that is not the only wrong assumption you’ve made recently. Gideon had forced you to tell Din to let go. The bond had cried out with agony when you’d said the words out loud as it had thought you were telling Din to let go of you. But looking back at the incident with a clearer head, you find yourself wondering why hadn’t Gideon included those two extra words if that was what he meant? It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of space left to write them on the paper.

If he didn’t mean for Din to let go of you, then logically that would mean he wants Din to let go of something else. Something important enough that Gideon is taking advantage of your relationship in order to convince him to release it.

But what could Din possibly possess that Gideon wants this badly? Din doesn’t own anything valuable except for the Crest and his armor, and you doubt either of those will further progress Gideon towards his goal.

To finish what I started.

Hours later and you still can’t figure out what the kriff he’s talking about. No matter which way you twist or turn the phrase over in your mind, it’s incomprehensible. What did he start? When did it happen? How does he intend to finish it?

Considering how your previous assumptions were both flawed, you really shouldn’t be making another one, but you can’t get the moment of when he’d pressed the sword against your chest out of your mind. The action itself screamed intimidation as well as sexual harassment, but when you think about how he did it at the same time he revealed his goal, your gut instinct is telling you to definitely assume the two are connected to each other.

And then there’s Mayfeld’s comment about there being an inevitable clash between Din and Gideon. He had sounded so certain there would only be one victor, but, unlike you, he hadn’t immediately placed his bet on Din. Which makes no sense to you. Everyone knows it’s an indisputable fact Din is the most powerful entity in the universe, second only to the Maker. The chance of Gideon winning their fight is so slim it’s infinitesimal.

It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword.

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well.

It isn’t really funny at all.

~~

Over the span of Din’s existence, he had witnessed entire civilizations wiped out by war, genocide, disease. No matter the reason behind the tragedy, the universe always called him there in the final moments to walk amongst the ruins left behind, to watch those last to die mourn those who passed before them. In those moments, he felt powerless, knowing there was not one thing he could do to change any of it.

He realized the universe was trying to instill a lesson in him: what is meant to happen, will always happen. Regardless of who is hurt in the process.

And maybe he would have surrendered to the harsh teaching if his angel hadn’t been stolen from her rightful place at his side. No one, not even the fucking universe itself, is going to stop him from getting her back.

From their first meeting, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Then when she asked him question after question about his likes and dislikes, his hobbies, his favorite sights in the galaxy—he made the risky decision of trusting her. He revealed his face to her, allowed her to know every part of himself, and was stunned every time she didn’t fear or run away from what she discovered. He didn’t know whether to consider her stupid or brave, but the moment he first heard her laugh at one of his sarcastic quips he knew it was a sound he wanted to hear everyday for the rest of eternity.

When she showed him her marked hand, claiming they were each other’s soulmates, he swore to himself he’d dedicate himself to her happiness. Anything she wanted or asked for, he would give to her without question.

Except now she has asked him to do the impossible: to let go.

He replays the transmission enough times every word, every quiet hitch of breath, and every subtle twitch of her facial features is embedded in his mind. Bo-Katan heaves a sigh after the eighth loop, squeezing the bridge of her nose as if a headache was forming, but he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the hologram long enough to glare at the reaper. She doesn’t have a soulmate, therefore she can’t even begin to fathom how it feels when his half of the soulmate bond slams itself against the invisible wall separating him from his angel with all the unhinged ferocity of a feral beast.

If Din didn’t know his angel as intimately as she knew him, he might have believed those were her own words coming out of her mouth. However, throughout the entire length of the message he notices how her eyes nervously flick to the side every few seconds, as if she needs to reassure herself someone offscreen isn’t making any sudden movements. It’s all the confirmation he needs to know she’s being used as a mouthpiece against her will to demand Din gives up searching for her.

Din refuses to yield to the whims of an enemy who doesn’t have the balls to face him directly.

He channels his seething anger into steadfast determination as he stretches his powers out across the galaxy for a second time, this time searching for the twi’lek Hess so graciously identified for him. Her being the one to have dragged his soulmate out of Cupid headquarters couldn’t have been a random circumstance. If she has even the slightest notion of who the elusive immortal is that is responsible for shielding his angel from him, he’ll beat the name out of her just as he had her Cupid superior.

Bo-Katan, never one to stand still when she can be doing something useful, sends a message out to her fellow reapers to fill them in on the developing situation. Only Din can give them orders to follow, but she strongly recommends they interrogate any Cupid they come across for information about Xi’an.

Transmissions start flooding in an hour later of reapers reporting what they’ve learned. Turns out Xi’an is the type of person who finds joy in antagonizing others. No one claims her as their friend nor do they know what region of the galaxy she usually operates in. The most interesting tidbit learned from the interrogations is that several Cupids have admitted they often saw the twi’lek in the archives at headquarters, studying datapads and flipping through holobooks.

“She was searching for something,” Bo-Katan murmurs, brow creasing thoughtfully.

“Or she was gathering information on someone’s behalf.” Din’s eyes remained closed, focus split between the conversation and the search. “Only Cupids are allowed at their headquarters. She’d have no issue slipping in and out without anyone giving her a second—”

Every soul has a unique aura that can only be sensed by power-sensitive beings like himself. No two are the same, similar to fingerprints and snowflakes. Having a specific target in mind hastens the search of detecting them amongst the trillions of other beings inhabiting the galaxy, but it is not the fact that Din’s powers have just locked onto Xi’an’s soul that has his eyes snapping open. It is her location.

She’s on Umbriel.

“Stay with the ship,” he tells Bo-Katan.

Din teleports before the reaper responds, arriving at the front entrance of his soulmate’s apartment in the next blink. The front door is wide open and his jaw clenches as he recognizes the gesture for the taunt it is. Rolling his shoulders back, he enters the apartment, purposefully shutting and locking the door behind him.

“About time you showed up.” As soon as Din hears her voice, he’s reminded of a loth cat screeching when its tail is grabbed. The anger he’s been forcibly holding back starts to simmer beneath his armor, fingers twitching at his sides with the desire to wrap around her throat and squeeze.

He finds a purple-skinned twi’lek Cupid standing in the center of the living room. Or, what used to be considered the living room at least. Every piece of furniture has been broken and torn apart. The pile of newspapers kept in the corner are shredded and scattered across the floor. If he didn’t know how precious they were to his angel in her quest to reclaim her memories, he wouldn’t have cared about the mess, but he does know and his wrath increases exponentially.

“Xi’an,” he says, the name bitter on his tongue like a curse.

“The rumor mill says you’ve been looking for me,” she drawls, looking coy and fluttering her eyelashes. “I gotta say, I’m flattered by the attention.”

“Tell me where my soulmate is and you won’t meet the same fate as your boss.”

Her head tilts, tapping her fingers against her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Are you referring to Hess? I heard no one’s been able to reach him lately, but since I report to someone of much higher ranking I could hardly bring myself to care.” Her lips curl into a wicked smirk, revealing the faintest glimpse of her fangs. “You’ve piqued my interest now though, what’d you do to the bastard?”

“I ripped out his soul and crushed it into dust.”

She giggles, unpleasant and shrill. “How scandalous.”

His patience snaps.

“Enough of this.” He steps forward. “Tell me who you work for and where is my soulmate.”

A pair of knives appear in her hands, summoned in the same quick manner as his angel had drawn her bow.

“My answer to the first part is no. And as for the second, you need to be more specific.” She sneers. “Which part of her are you looking for?”

The noise that tears itself out of Din’s throat is one never made by another entity before. It is an outburst of ravenous fury, a promise of bloodshed and carnage, and a predator’s roar before they consume their prey all blended into one deafening war cry.

Xi’an maintains a brave face as she throws knife after knife at him, but as each one harmlessly deflects off his beskar and dissolves into a flicker of light, he sees her mask begin to crack, revealing her nervousness.

She resorts to throwing punches when he’s close enough, but there is no finesse and each one is sloppy. He catches her fist mid-swing with his own hand and twists, shattering her wrist. She gasps out a curse, but the unexpected reappearance of her mischievous smirk manages to catch him off guard.

“Are you gonna do it?” she asks, voice tight with pain, but the intent to provoke him is clear. “Unleash that beautiful darkness I can sense writhing around inside of you?”

He pins her against the wall harsh enough her teeth audibly clack against each other. Still she keeps smirking, still her voice drips like poison into his ears.

“You know you want to, sweetie, so just let go.”

Din’s powers lash out, incensed by those two words he’s sick of hearing. Latching onto her soul, she starts to choke, but the deranged glimmer of glee in her eyes makes him think she’d be laughing if she could.

Darkness starts to ooze out of his armor, resembling thick, black smoke. He can feel the sinister energy emanating from the very core of his being, as if the box it’s been trapped in has been unlocked and is seconds away from bursting open.

Some distant, far part of him is ringing every warning alarm and urging him to stop. But he ignores that voice of reason when he sees Xi’an’s soul start creeping up the back of her mouth, glowing brightly as it squirms in a futile attempt to free itself from the hold of his powers.

He grits his teeth, impatience prompting him to tug at it again, and—

The world lurches and transforms in a blur. When his vision adjusts, he’s no longer standing in his soulmate’s apartment, but instead surrounded by an abundance of scorched trees. Chest heaving, he struggles to clear his head of violent thoughts and make sense of what just happened.

Someone suddenly calls out from behind him, “I summoned you here to speak with you.”

Din recognizes the speaker’s voice before he actually turns to see the female togruta. She wears her usual blue-and-silver tunic and a brown headpiece embedded with a gem over her montrals. The ground is green beneath her feet, the only glimpse of flourishing nature for miles.

“I was in the middle of something, Ahsoka,” Din answers, stalking forward until they stand nearly toe to toe. He’s lost count of how many encounters they’ve had with one another over the years, but no matter the number he remains reluctant to consider her a friend since the Oracle has the irritating knack for disrupting his life when he least desires her presence.

She stands tall, but her hands move to rest on the hilts of the two sabers attached to her belt. “Have you forgotten your creed? When the universe needs you, you listen to it.”

“My soulmate needs me!” he shouts, trembling as another pulse of dark energy discharges from his body. It washes over Ahsoka like a harsh gust of wind, but while she remains unaffected, the patch of grass withers instantaneously.

“The universe recognizes that,” Ahsoka says, and while her calmness does nothing to ease his frayed nerves, her next words have him freezing in place. “And I’ll take you to her so long as you promise me one thing.”

Tentative hope slices through the erratic storm of frenzied emotions in his chest like a beam of sunlight. He searches Ahsoka’s face for the faintest hint of deception, but finds only sincerity.

“What is it?”

“You cannot kill Moff Gideon.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​, @eleinemk​, @captain-jebi​, @aerynwrites​, @promiscuoussatan​, @stilllivindue2spite​, @coaaster​, @lin-djarin​, @oh-no-a-whovian​, @over300books​, @chibi-yuki​, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #my fic #my writing #death and an angel #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 35

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 34

Next Chapter: To be posted

Thomas woke up in his bed, Alastair beside him. He tried to push away the thought that if this hadn’t gone well, he could have found Alastair’s dead body here when he woke up. But Alastair was alive, he pushed himself up and out of the bed. Thomas didn’t know how fast he had to pull those blankets off of him. The fever was gone, his memory made sense again, and those blankets were far too warm for this weather. Alastair seemed a little disoriented still, rubbing his head painfully and blinking sleep out of his eye.

‘We’re back,’ Thomas said.

‘And alive,’ Alastair added. ‘Where are Lucie and Cordelia?’

‘They came to the realm of the thief in their bodies,’ Thomas said. ‘So I assume they entered a gateway back to the equivalent of that palace in this world.’

Alastair groaned. ‘That means they could be anywhere now. They might not even be in this country.’

Thomas nodded. He didn’t know what else to say. He guessed they could call Lucie and Cordelia. But he also knew he needed to speak with Alastair about what he’d done, and Thomas had no idea how. He tried not to let it show, but he was very upset about the choice Alastair had made.

It had worked out in the end, he had to give Alastair that. They’d won and they were all alive. If Alastair hadn’t done what he did, Thomas would not have survived. His soul might have been saved, but there was no way he could have come back to life.

Part of him was grateful. Part of him was terrified. Part of him was angry. He didn’t know how to make sense of those feelings. He was terrified of what else Alastair would do when it came to Thomas’ safety. He knew Alastair was not quite alright, he knew he did not believe he was worthy of love and affection, but he had not expected Alastair to give up his soul for him. Alastair couldn’t have known it would work out in the end. He had not counted on it, nor had he told anyone of his plans. He’d done this on his own.

Alastair had found his phone and was calling Cordelia, promising to come pick her up.

‘She and Lucie are still in Scotland, fortunately, but it’s a bit of a drive. They sent me their location, I can go pick them up there.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re up for it?’ he asked.

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m tired, but not worse than usual. Had not expected that, but I have been asleep for longer than I have in a while.’

Alastair leaned in for a kiss, but Thomas did not reciprocate. A bit unsure, Alastair turned around and left. ‘I’ll see you when we get back.’

Thomas changed into some clean clothes, his pajamas weren’t that comfortable anymore. He guessed he could use a shower too, but that would come later. He vaguely remembered his sisters being here, and he wanted to let everyone know he was alright.

As expected, his father was pacing back and forth through the house, to everyone’s annoyance. His father needed something to do in stressful times, and lately he’d been unable to do anything.

‘You’re alive,’ his father said, pulling him into a hug. ‘You really are alive.’

‘We did it. Cordelia killed the thief, no one owes him souls anymore,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s over.’

Thomas sat down on the couch next to his mother. Unlike Alastair he was still exhausted from everything and did not feel as if he’s been sleeping at all. His mother instantly felt his forehead, Thomas suspected she did it without thinking by now.

‘You don’t seem feverish anymore,’ she said.

‘No, I’m not sick. Still a little tired, but the fever should be gone,’ Thomas said. ‘What time is it?’

‘Eight in the evening. You must be starving, Tom.’

Thomas guessed that was true. He had barely eaten anything the past days, and he had his appetite back.

‘I’ll make you something to eat,’ his mother said. ‘If you’re hungry before it’s done, you could heat up some leftover soup.’

Thomas started with the soup, eating while lost in thought. Why had Alastair done it? Could Thomas still be with him? He didn’t want them to break up, he would miss Alastair terribly, but he also wasn’t sure if he could make it work if they stayed together after this. He didn’t know what to do.

***

‘Where the hell are we?’ Cordelia asked.

She and Lucie appeared at the parking lot of an old castle somewhere. It didn’t look anything like what the thief had built, but it did appear they were still in Scotland. Cordelia hoped they weren’t too far away from the others. Alastair and Thomas weren’t with them, but Cordelia guessed that made sense. They’d gone back to their own bodies, which were still in Thomas’ bed.

‘About an hour’s drive away,’ Lucie said. ‘And I’m all out of snacks.’

‘Alastair’s calling,’ Cordelia said.

Alastair agreed to pick them up at the parking lot and Cordelia texted him her live location. Nothing to do but wait now, and she found a bench for the two of them to sit down on.

‘I still have some snacks,’ Cordelia offered. ‘I imagine you’re exhausted.’

‘I could probably sleep for a hundred years,’ Lucie said. ‘But I won’t. Waking up alone in a new century is not how I’d planned my life. Maybe I’ll sleep for a week though.’

‘We’re in our world now, not in between,’ Cordelia said. ‘Your mother slept in the land in between and time moved differently then. I think that’s why when she woke up, over a hundred years had passed.’

‘Still, I think I need a nap,’ Lucie said.

Cordelia allowed Lucie to lie down in her lap, closing her eyes. She sometimes envied Lucie’s ability to sleep everywhere. Cordelia was tired too, but didn’t know how to rest. Besides, someone had to stay awake until Alastair got here. An empty parking lot was not exactly a safe place for women at this hour. Of course, if some human tried to harm them, they wouldn’t know what they were up against.

She gently stroke Lucie’s head. She didn’t stir, she really was in a deep sleep. It was another one and a half hour until Alastair showed up. She was lucky she and Lucie hadn’t ended up in another country. That would have been problematic without a passport or money.

Cordelia felt changed, somehow. As if a piece of the darkness had traveled with her. The reaper had told her she could return to the land in between and the land of the thief whenever she wished, all of them could now. She didn’t know what else had changed. Had Alastair changed too? She wasn’t sure.

‘Thank god, you’re safe,’ Alastair said. ‘Come, let’s go back.’

‘Thank you for coming,’ Cordelia said, waking Lucie.

‘Any time,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m glad you ended up here, rather than in a different country, even if still doesn’t seem like a safe place to have waited so long.’

Cordelia nodded, she and Lucie got in the car and Alastair drove back, going a little above the speed limit, but there was no one else here.

‘How’s Thomas?’ she asked.

‘Alive,’ was all Alastair said.

‘Is he very upset with you?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I don’t know. He didn’t say much, and someone had to come pick you up. We didn’t have time to talk.’

‘Why did you do it?’ Cordelia asked.

‘You read my letter, didn’t you?’ Alastair asked, his voice betraying little emotion.

It was frustrating when he did that, Cordelia knew this could not be anywhere near the full extent of his feelings.

‘Yes. It was upsetting,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m worried about you, dâdâsh.’

‘No need for that, Layla. You killed the thief of souls, we’re safe,’ Alastair said.

Cordelia began to get frustrated. Did he really not understand why everyone was so upset about what he’d done? She knew it had worked out in the end, that he’d saved Thomas, and she was glad for that, but that didn’t mean what he’d done was right, or healthy. If he’d discussed it as a method to buy them the time they needed, Cordelia might not have liked it, but it would have been a decent plan. But that wasn’t what Alastair had done. He’d chosen to sacrifice his soul for Thomas’, and although that sounded sweet, it wasn’t what any of them would have wanted. It wasn’t what Thomas would have wanted, and to Cordelia it only showed that Alastair still did not value himself.

‘What if it happens again?’ Cordelia asked. ‘We still haven’t found Tatiana, what if she finds some other creature to deal with and comes for us again? Will you sacrifice yourself for Thomas?’

‘I would have done the same for you, Layla,’ he said quietly. ‘You know that, right?’

‘That’s the problem!’ Cordelia yelled. ‘I would not want you to sacrifice yourself for me. I never wanted that, and neither did Thomas.’

‘I only did it because I love him,’ Alastair said. ‘Because I wanted to put his safety and happiness before my own. That’s what it means to love someone, doesn’t it?’

Cordelia didn’t know how to explain what she meant. What he said wasn’t completely wrong, when you loved someone you wanted them to be happy, even if it wasn’t with you. But this wasn’t the same, was it? There was the matter of consent, of course. No one who loved you would want you to make such a sacrifice. She imagined Charles would have, or her father. Perhaps not to the extent Alastair had done, but Alastair’s love for both of them had been closely tied to sacrifice and in the end it had turned bitter because Alastair had gotten hurt over and over again and her father nor Charles had cared about him. The kind of person who would want such a sacrifice from you wasn’t someone who deserved it.

‘Love does not mean sacrifice,’ Cordelia said. ‘And right now, we’re all scared you’re going to hurt yourself.’

‘I don’t want to die, Cordelia,’ Alastair said. ‘I am not suicidal. How many more times do I have to tell you that?’

Cordelia didn’t say anything else. She didn’t know what to say, how to reach Alastair. He didn’t understand, how could she make him? Perhaps Jem would know, or Gideon. Perhaps Alastair would listen to them if he didn’t listen to her.

‘Just so you know, Thomas feels the same way,’ Cordelia said. ‘As I said, he never asked for this, and that why he’s upset.’

‘I saved him,’ Alastair said. ‘If he doesn’t want me anymore after that, it still would have been worth it. Him being upset with me is better dan him being dead.’

***

Jesse was still around, away from his mother now that she’d lost her power. He no longer knew where Tatiana had gone, or if she was still a threat. Lucie knew his soul was free now, but he was still dead, even she could not fix that.

He’d been spending time with Barbara. The dead Barbara that was, as Thomas’ sister Barbara was here too. It was all very confusing, but Lucie had helped Barbara and Eugenia meet their grandmother, and their cousin Jesse. Both had died too young, but were ready to let go now. Uncle Gabriel hadn’t been able to get much time off from work, but had come to meet his mother. It had been a long drive for the little time he had here, but he’d taken it anyway. Gabriel did not remember his mother, but had taken the chance to meet her now, and left shortly after.

Lucie was sitting outside with Jesse. She knew she’d have to say goodbye, he did not want to stay here. Nor should he. It wasn’t much of an afterlife, to stay behind as a ghost, and Jesse should get to have a proper death. That didn’t make it easier though.

‘I cannot promise that you will be alright when you leave,’ Lucie said.

‘I know,’ Jesse said. ‘You do not need to promise me. I will be alright. I have faith in what comes next.’

Lucie had no clue what would happen. The reaper had been unable to tell her, it had to be kept secret. Lucie wasn’t sure why, but guessed it would make sense once it was her time. Hopefully, that would not be anytime soon, for any of them.

‘I wish there’s more I could have done for you.’

‘You saved me from the thief, Lu,’ Jesse said. ‘You gave me a chance at a proper afterlife. There’s nothing more I could have asked for.’

‘Do you remember anything from your time there?’ Lucie asked.

‘Bits and pieces. I think you’re supposed to forget there.’

‘I didn’t forget.’

‘You’re alive,’ Jesse said. ‘You entered that place with a living body, as did Cordelia. I think Thomas remembered because he had to, and Alastair never forgot because he cannot forget. But souls who go there are meant to forget. Barbara remembers only because Alastair made her.’

‘Perhaps Alastair could help you remember too,’ Lucie said.

‘It’s not so bad, to forget,’ Jesse said. ‘I remember who I am, my life. I don’t need memories of that place.’

Lucie had to admit he had a point. Forgetting wasn’t always bad. It made her wonder, was it difficult for Alastair too, that he could never forget?

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘When will you go?’

‘No time like the present, right?’ Jesse said. ‘Barbara will come with me, we’re going together. I’d say I won’t forget you, but I do not know what will happen to my memories on the other side.’

‘That’s alright,’ Lucie said. ‘Because I will remember you. And I hope it’s good, what you find there.’

‘Goodbye, Lucie. It was an honor to know you.’

Jesse walked to Barbara. He looked so normal as he did, almost as if he were alive. Then he took his grandmother’s hand, and they both disappeared. Lucie knew she would not see them again. She knew it was for the best.

***

In the next few days, Thomas continued to avoid Alastair. Whenever he entered a room, Thomas left, and Alastair didn’t know what to do. It was alright, he told himself. Thomas was safe and it would be alright if he didn’t want Alastair anymore. It was bound to happen anyway. But Alastair still found himself longing for Thomas. His silence was more painful than he could have imagined, and Alastair didn’t know how to fix this. How could he, if Thomas wouldn’t even speak to him?

‘Just so you know, if he dumps you, Kamala and I are keeping you,’ Eugenia said. ‘I’m sure dad feels the same way.’

He’d spent time with Thomas’ sister and her girlfriend the past few days. Lucie and Cordelia were mainly together, and Alastair understood. They were recovering from what happened, and wanted to be together now that they’d finally realized they loved each other.

Barbara had returned home. Alastair liked her, but didn’t get along as easily with her as with Eugenia. It wasn’t her fault, really, Alastair just didn’t know what to talk about with her. Eugenia and Kamala were both students at the same university Alastair went to, Kamala as a medical student and Eugenia was a year ahead in sociology. She could tell him exactly what to expect.

James was still around as well, he’d spent most of his time around Thomas and Lucie. Alastair hadn’t spoken to him apart from a short apology for what happened in school. He’d apologized to at the end of the school year before he’d transferred, but wasn’t sure James remembered at all. He’d put his school days behind him. He hoped James could do, but wasn’t sure if they could ever be friends. He found Lucie easier to get along with, which Lucie claimed was because they were probably both autistic. James seemed to have accepted his apology this time at least.

‘I’m not sure that would be right,’ Alastair said. ‘I don’t think Thomas wants me around anymore.’

‘If he’s dumping you, he’s an idiot,’ Eugenia said. ‘I hope you two can work it out, but if not, you’re still our friend.’

Alastair frowned. ‘We just met.’

‘Does that matter?’ Eugenia asked.

‘I don’t really have friends,’ Alastair added. ‘I don’t know how to be someone’s friend.’

‘Even more reason to accept me and Kamala as your friends. Doesn’t look like you have many options, and you’re not getting rid of us that easily.’

‘Genie is very determined,’ Kamala added. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to try to escape us. You live in London too, right?’

‘Yes,’ Alastair said, although he was not yet sure which part of London. Jem’s offer was tempting, but could he leave his mother now that she was having a baby?

Alastair had called her every day since making it back from the thief’s realm, discussing the baby, potential names, and what he’d do after the summer. His mother had encouraged him to choose for himself, not her, and she would be fine if he moved out. Alastair had not yet made a decision.

‘Great, then we’ll have plenty of opportunities to spend time together,’ Eugenia said. ‘Kamala currently lives in a cupboard under the stairs, but I live with my parents and have the space to host us.’

Alastair frowned. ‘A cupboard?’

‘It’s not a cupboard under the stairs. But it’s small,’ Kamala said. ‘My parents disowned me, had to take what I could get.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Alastair said.

Kamala shrugged. ‘It’s fine. Without them, I can finally figure out who I am, rather than who they want me to be.’

Although he didn’t know them well yet, Alastair did like Kamala and Eugenia so far. He guessed he had no clue how to be a friend, but he was figuring it out, and they provided a decent distraction from Thomas, who still refused to speak to him. Eugenia claimed Alastair should just go talk to him, but he didn’t dare. He was scared he would be abandoned again, although this wasn’t exactly a great situation either.

After dinner, Alastair was reading on the couch, a book Kamala had recommended to him. She and Eugenia both liked to read, which was nice because if he was unable to keep a conversation going they could always discuss books they liked.

‘How have you been?’

Gideon had come to sit down next to him. The past days he’d mostly been around Thomas, which Alastair could understand. It must have been very upsetting to almost watch him die. His arm had been broken, Alastair had learnt, but Kamala’s magic had sped up the healing process considerably.

‘Eugenia and Kamala have been kind to me,’ he said.

‘Yes, it’s nice you’re getting along so well with them. Genie likes you a lot. But you haven’t spoken to Thomas at all, have you?’

‘I haven’t,’ Alastair admitted. ‘He’s been avoiding me. I knew he’d realize I wasn’t worth it eventually, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

Nor had he expected it to hurt so much, but he didn’t say that out loud.

‘Why do you believe you aren’t worth it?’ Gideon asked.

Alastair wasn’t sure what to answer. ‘He deserves someone whole, someone who’s not broken like me. I’m too broken, too difficult.’

‘You’re not too broken to be loved, Alastair,’ Gideon said. ‘Thomas is very upset about what you did. He knows he needs to talk to you, he’s been avoiding you because he doesn’t like difficult conversations.’

‘He doesn’t want me anymore,’ Alastair said. ‘But I don’t understand why he’s upset that I saved his life.’

‘You scared him,’ Gideon said. ‘You scared all of us. I knew you were hurting, but sacrificing your soul for someone… That’s not a good sign.’

‘I did what I had to do to save your son,’ Alastair said. ‘Aren’t you happy he’s alive?’

Alastair was confused about why everyone was so upset. He knew he’d made a difficult choice, and maybe he shouldn’t have done it without telling anyone, but it had worked out and without it Thomas would be dead. Didn’t they understand why he’d done it? He found it hard to believe someone else would not have done the same.

‘I am. And I am grateful for what you did for him. But you must understand that it’s not what he wanted. If you hadn’t killed the thief in time, if you’d died and he’d lived, he would have to live with that guilt. I do not think it is right to make these decisions for him in secret. It all worked out in the end, but I’m also concerned about you, and why you did it.’

‘I did it because I love him,’ Alastair said. ‘I guess he doesn’t love me like that, and that’s alright. I just wanted him to be happy.’

He tried to wipe away the tears in his eyes, but he couldn’t hide that he was crying.

‘I imagine that after everything that happened to you, you came to believe that love meant sacrifice. But I don’t think that’s a healthy way to approach relationships. Someone who loves you would not want you to sacrifice yourself for them. If it had been reversed, and Thomas had traded himself for you? Or Cordelia?’

Alastair pictured the scenario, him dying and Cordelia or Thomas making that deal. He wouldn’t want that, Gideon had a point.

‘I would have done everything in my power to stop them,’ Alastair said.

‘So you understand then, why Thomas is upset?’ Gideon asked gently.

‘It’s not the same,’ Alastair said stubbornly.

‘Why not?’

‘Because…’ Because he wasn’t worth that. Because Thomas could be happy without him, and Alastair was just broken. Because he was awful and bitter and did not deserve to be saved.

‘Because you believe you’re worth less than him,’ Gideon finished for him. ‘I know you do not love yourself very much. I think I understand why you did it, and I cannot blame you, but if you want to talk it out with Thomas you need to understand why he’s so upset.’

‘He doesn’t want me,’ Alastair said.

‘You won’t know that unless you talk. I don’t know what Thomas wants, but you should not leave anything unsaid between you two. You owe that to each other, and yourselves.’

Alastair guessed Gideon was right. He did understand why Thomas was upset, but Alastair could not bring himself to regret it. Not when he’d saved Thomas, not when it had all worked out.

Alastair found Thomas at the Herondale manor. He stood up from the couch as soon as he noticed Alastair, about to leave.

‘Do you want to take a walk?’ Alastair asked.

Thomas didn’t say anything.

‘I won’t go far,’ Alastair clarified. ‘I guess I just wanted to be outside.’

‘You can do that without me,’ Thomas said, avoiding his gaze.

‘I also thought we should talk,’ Alastair added.

‘Another time?’ Thomas asked.

‘If you need to, but I think you’ll postpone this indefinitely,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s been difficult for me, the way you avoided me.’

Thomas nodded. ‘You’re right. No time like the present, I guess.’

It was a warm evening, the sun was disappearing behind the trees, and a soft breeze caressed his cheeks. The kind of weather Lucie would use for a romantic scene, he guessed. Alastair hoped it worked out for him as well.

‘I missed you,’ Alastair said softly.

‘Me too. I missed you, I mean. Not myself. That wouldn’t even make sense.’

Thomas was rambling, and Alastair could tell he dreaded this conversation. Alastair did too. It was like a weight pressing on his stomach, Alastair felt he might throw up.

‘I understand why you’re upset.’

Thomas turned to face him, and took his hand. ‘Promise me you’ll never do something like that again.’

Alastair hesitated. ‘If I am to make such a promise, I would at least need you to be more specific.’

Thomas looked away and clenched his fist.‘You’re not taking me seriously.’

‘No, I am. But I don’t understand what you want me to promise. That I will never hurt myself? I do not think I can make such a promise. I wish I could, but I do not know what the future will hold. I might get worse. I do not want to make a promise unless I know I can keep it.’

Thomas hesitated. ‘No, I guess I cannot ask that. As much as I want you to feel better, it’s not something I can demand of you. But if we’re going to make this work, I do need you to promise me one thing. Promise me you will not go behind my back again. Perhaps, if you’d discussed what you were planning, I could have stopped you. Or perhaps we could have worked it into a plan we could all agree with to improve our odds of winning. I cannot deny that you saved me, that I would have died if you hadn’t done what you did. But I do not ever want you to keep your plans to save me hidden from me, nor do I want you to give up your life, or soul, for me.’

‘I guess I can promise that,’ Alastair said. ‘I should not have gone behind everyone’s back, you’re right. But I cannot regret what I’ve done.’

‘I understand and I can live with that,’ Thomas said. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

‘I’m hoping there won’t be a reason to,’ Alastair said. ‘But I promise I won’t keep you in the dark about my plans to save or protect you.’

‘I’m sorry I avoided you,’ Thomas said. ‘I knew we needed to have this conversation, and I didn’t know how. I thought I could just postpone it until I was ready, but it wasn’t going to get any better.’

‘You did a pretty good job,’ Alastair said. ‘Although it helped that your father talked to me.’

‘He’s worried too, isn’t he?’

‘It’s odd, to have people concerned about me,’ Alastair admitted.

‘You’re just not used to it,’ Thomas said. ‘But my parents are experts at being concerned about people, so you might need to adapt.’

‘It’s nice,’ Alastair said.

He used to hate the feeling, but lately not anymore. It felt so good to be allowed to let go, to break down and know there would be someone to help him pick up the pieces. He’d always wanted to be strong, but he’d been so tired of it lately.

‘It can be too much,’ Thomas said. ‘But that’s better than people not caring at all.’

‘Can I kiss you?’ Alastair asked shily.

‘Please.’

Alastair grabbed hold of Thomas’ shoulders, standing on his tip toes to be able to reach his lips. Having a tall boyfriend had its downsides too, but Thomas leaned down a little and Alastair could kiss him.

Their lips met, and Alastair realized he’d been starved for this, even if it had only been a few days since they’d kissed. Thomas took control off the kiss, a bit more experienced by now, and Alastair loved it. He wanted to let Thomas drown him in affection. Thomas put his arms around him, pressing him closer. Their bodies fit together nicely, Alastair could feel his muscles, his chest, strong arms enveloping him and keeping him safe.

‘I forgive you,’ Thomas said. ‘I don’t like what you did, but it’s alright. I know you don’t believe you’re worth it, but you are and I hope one day you’ll see that too. Let’s give this another try.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #the last hours #fanfiction #tlh

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.22}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

The two weeks that followed upon the dancing class were no different than Christmas time at Hogwarts always had been: it was snowy beyond reason, cold as hell, but the decorations that were put up actually brightened most people's mood and rendered everyone almost disgustingly cheerful. However, there were differences this year, and no matter how subtle they were, Robin still had no trouble pinpointing them with a striking accuracy.

One, both Cas and Jorien had chosen to stay at school over the holidays, mostly due to the fact that they were now in fourth year and thus officially allowed to attend the ball even without being someone's plus one. Besides that, they wanted to spend Robin's last ball at Hogwarts here with her, just once, all six of them together. Well, seven technically, but Robin still didn't know how she was supposed to get Snape into that equation.

Two, Robin spent significantly less time working for Sprout or Hagrid than she had during the last years (she did already work with them in the plenty during the school weeks at this point after all), and instead spent significantly more time with Snape, playing wizard's chess or reading during the days when the work was done, and drinking mulled wine, firewhisky or plain old coffee in his rooms at night.

And three, the two previous changes in addition to the revelations that had come up during lunch after the dancing class now made it near impossible for Robin to get the girls' words out of her head. Did Snape really look at her all that differently than at other people? Well, he certainly did, but that after all might merely be due to the fact that she was his best friend, just like he was hers. It didn't mean anything that his eyes followed her through the halls during meals, or that she slinked through the corridors on her way from his room to her own in an increasing frequency and like a bloody first year trying not to get caught after curfew. It didn't mean anything that he would sometimes just observe her with an expression that made her skin tingle while she rambled on about whatever had caught her attention now, and it most definitely didn't mean anything that he had gifted her that Japanese dictionary she had been trying to get her hands on for over a year now for Christmas. Without losing a word about it, of course, and in complete denial that it had anything to do with the holidays.

Put shortly, Robin couldn't help keeping her eyes open now that Jorien had so bluntly prompted her to. And every little thing she discovered made her want to sink back into deep denial indeed, and build a twenty feet brick wall around herself. Sometimes being the god of a universe of illusion is easier than being a peasant in the hell that is reality.

Honestly, she had never before actually considered that she might be scared to see the reality she found herself in, and found in herself. That she was scared to death not only of his true feelings, of being rejected, but also very much of her own emotions. It had been quite blissful to live in the easy fixed knowledge that she loved him, without actually paying attention to the reality of her feelings. And in reality, she felt something so intense and overwhelming that it terrified her to pieces. If only things were as easy as saying she loved him… Because if she was keeping her eyes open now, not only to her surroundings but also to herself, it was so much more than that. He was her best friend after all, her family and home, and after seven bloody years, there was no denying that he had also become a part of herself. Sure, she would be able to live without him, but what really mattered was that she would move heaven and hell to ensure she would never have to. Bloody hell, what a mess that would become once she left school in no more than half a year… And then, she could only hope that he would want to keep her in his life as well.

"Earth to Robin!" Jorien waved her hand in front of Robin's face, which was the first thing Robin noticed when she snapped out of her thoughts. "If you keep daydreaming like that, we'll be late to the ball!"

"We still have three hours until it's time to head up there." Robin huffed while rolling her eyes, but still shut the book in her lap she'd been failing to read for the last thirty minutes anyway. "I don't plan on sitting around in my dress until then."

"Are you sure that you want to wear the same one as last year?" Cas inquired in what sounded close to a whine. "I still stand by my offer to lend you one of mine!"

"Pff, yeah, Robin in a peach coloured glittery dress…" Jorien snorted, shaking her head at her friend. "You might be close to the same height, but your style is entirely different."

"I know that!"

"Obviously you don't. And Robin has a completely different body shape than you do, in addition to that."

"Hey, it's not my fault that I have muscles in my body!" Cas huffed with a glare at her friend. "Making the Quidditch team and staying on the team requires at least some level of physical fitness."

"Hey, I do have muscles!" Robin protested immediately, but she couldn't say that she felt offended by the girl's words. It was no secret that Cas definitely was the athletic type, whereas Robin's virtues were of a more academic nature.

"Yes, that, and I was actually referring to the fact that you are quite a bit more gifted in the upper regions than Robin." Jorien added with a pointed look at Cas, who crossed her arms over her chest with a blush and a pout.

"Guys, it doesn't matter, alright? I'm actually very much looking forward to wearing the same dress as last year." Robin tried to mend the field with diplomacy and an easy shrug. "The only reason I'm wearing a dress in the first place is so that I fit in a bit better."

"With Snape or with the crowd?" Cas returned with a smirk, all embarrassment forgotten. "Because while the former is quite the success with your dress, it logically eradicates the possibility for the latter to be too."

"That sounded way too Simon of you." Jorien snorted, then dodged the pillow that came flying her way. "What! It's not my fault that you guys are adopting each other's speech patterns more and more."

"So what's the plan for tonight?" Robin barged in before Cas could come up with a reply to get their bickering going again. There had been enough of that at breakfast. "Simon obviously is Cas' date, Gideon asked Lisa and Micheal's still trying to find someone. What about you, Jorien? Any prospects?"

"I asked Melissa." She shrugged casually in return, then started picking at her nails. "She'd rather go with a boy than with me. Better a date than a friend-date, and all that… Perhaps I should set her up with Michael, if both are so desperate to find someone to bring along. Quite pathetic, if you ask me. I'd rather go alone than be someone's last resort."

"Going alone is perfectly fine, I haven't ever had a date to the ball either." Robin shrugged with an encouraging smile. "You can be my date, if it means anything to you."

"You've been someone's unofficial date for all the past years, from what I was told, and I'm not getting in between that!" Jorien held up her hands in defense, and Robin rolled her eyes. "Upsetting Professor Snape wasn't on my agenda for tonight."

"Anyway…" Cas said after a few seconds of weird silence. "My plans for tonight include lots of dancing, hopefully some spiked drinks and of course some casual snogging."

"Cas!" Robin tried to sound scolding, but her laugh betrayed her exasperated tone. "That's nowhere near appropriate behaviour for a school dance!"

"Hey, I'm no saint and I never said I was!" The girl laughed in return, and the mischief that settled on her face should've been more disconcerting to Robin than it actually was. "Who knows, perhaps we'll visit the fifth floor hallway if things go well enough."

The mention of that make-out spot alone made Robin pull a face in distaste, and she couldn't help frowning deeply at her friend. "I would like to think that Simon has a bit more class than that."

"What, and I don't?"

"You just suggested going there, without a concern in the world. So please excuse me if I question your standards."

"She's got a point." Jorien added with a snicker and a shrug, and Robin gave her a high five with a smirk. Two against one; nobody was going to the fifth floor tonight.

"Fine…" Cas groaned and crossed her arms again. "But wherever else should we go, huh? Being classy while being a student isn't all that easy if you're not entirely immune to every boy's charme like Jorien or best friends with a bloody professor like Robin! How am I supposed to have fun, can you tell me that?"

"I'm not giving you pointers on how to snog your boyfriend, Cas. Or worse." Robin replied calmly, for she couldn't decide between being flustered and laughing at the girl's exasperation. "If you guys want to sneak around, you better do it without my knowledge. You know I can't lie, and chances are high that I would have to if I knew what you're up to."

"The alcoves are said to be a pretty good spot for making out." Jorien shrugged, completely ignoring Robin's previous statement. Great… now Robin would have to actively not listen to both of them. "And there's always our room, if you wanna go all out. With some sixth year charms work, it shouldn't be too difficult to find some privacy in the dorms… And I'd planned to sleep over at Melissa's tonight anyway. To hear all about her conquests."

"I did not just hear that, nope, absolutely didn't." Robin sighed to herself under her breath and turned on her heels, deciding that it was due time to take a shower. She'd gotten through puberty without too many losses, if she'd even had one in the first place, but she would be damned if she got dragged into her friends' shenanigans now as a late payback for that. So she grabbed her things and fled the room, after triple checking that everything she needed was safely tucked under her arm. She would not be smelling like pineapple tonight.

… … …

Luckily, when she returned to her room an hour later, the conversation had moved on and the girls were now discussing Cas' options for the dress she was to wear tonight. That was a topic Robin could very well live with, could very well ignore, and so she went back to reading like she'd originally tried to do before her thoughts had strayed. With a content sigh, she stretched out on the bed and focused on the article in front of her, until a light tap on her shoulder drew her eyes up and away from the page.

"It's just ten minutes until we're leaving, so you might want to get ready now at least." Jorien said to her with an amused smile, which only broadened when Robin's jaw dropped.

"But I literally just started reading! It can't be that late!"

"Yeah, well, that was two hours ago." The girl chuckled, then turned around to Cas for her to close the zipper of her dress. Both of them were already done with their preparations, in full makeup and beautiful hairdos, just a smile away from ready to go… and Robin was still in her pajamas.

With a groan under her breath, she flipped the book shut before tossing it onto her nightstand, then she scrambled to her feet to dig out her dress from the trunk at the end of her bed. Ten minutes; ridiculous, impossible… Well, not if she screwed decency for now. Without wasting any of the precious time on contemplation, she just went with it and shed her Queen shirt first, then her flannels without a second thought. Should they see her in her knickers, who cared at this point. They'd known each other for years now. Still, what she hadn't considered was the very reason why both girls gasped now and stared at her even as she stepped into the heavy black fabric of her dress and pulled it up her body with one swift move.

Robin sighed under her breath; she could very well imagine why the girls looked at her like that. It was one of the reasons why she never changed in front of anyone, and even less let them see her in any state of undress. "It's just a scar, guys. No need to be weird about it." She stated before either of them could say anything that would make the situation even more uncomfortable. "I told you that I was stabbed last summer, it's no big deal. Not a pretty sight, I know, but it is what it is."

"Didn't that hurt?!" Cas was the first to blurt out her thoughts. "I know that you told us about it happening, but… somehow I never really thought about the implications of that."

Robin snorted at the question, while she moved her hair out of the way to let Jorien close the many tiny buttons of her dress now. "Obviously it hurt. I almost died from blood loss, that's not going to happen from just a scratch. But it healed well for what it is. The scar really is a small price for my life."

"It's so weird to think that you've gone through something like that! I mean… you're just Robin, a bookworm too smart for her own good. To think that all those adventures you told us about actually happened is like imagining Professor Sprout in a wrestling tournament." Cas gestured wildly as she spoke, and Jorien just snorted at her friend's dramatics.

Robin shrugged all of it off with a smile that was as apologetic as it was evasive, then straightened her dress and put on the one pair of more or less dressy shoes she owned; they'd be covered by the dress for the most part anyway. Then she twisted her hair up with her wand like she usually did, and that was about it. Makeup still wasn't getting anywhere near her face, or any other body part for that matter.

"Wow… You look amazing! Powerful and dark and… pretty damn hot." Jorien commented when she got a glimpse at the front of the dress as well. "Like you're the essence of night itself."

"Right! That's exactly what I said last year!" Cas grinned and nodded in agreement, while Robin simply tried not to blush. Compliments about her wit and brains were fine… compliments about her looks however were just unusual and therefore weirdly uncomfortable.

"Thanks guys, but I'm really just trying to fit in." She shrugged, and both girls frowned at her in an instant.

"Fitting in is actually the last thing this dress does for you, I think." Jorien smirked as she slung her small bag around her shoulders, seconds before all three girls made for the door. It was time they got going, after all, and thus they mostly hurried through the common room and out into the hallways. "If anything, you'll draw attention. Make an impression on some people. Seize a few hearts, and steal a soul."

Robin just snorted while rolling her eyes at the comment, but Cas caught straight on to it.

"YES! Absolutely! Robin, you've got to take advantage of those killer looks… Try to seduce the subject of your affections!" Cas beamed, in a way that spoke volumes of her excitement about meddling in foreign affairs. "Use your womanly charm and go for it! Make him fall for you!"

"I love you, Cas, but do shut up."

"She's right though!" Jorien obviously had to side with her friend, and Robin groaned under her breath upon having both girls plotting against her now. "If he doesn't find you delectable now, he's truly as undeserving of you as every other male in this castle."

"And who would you be talking about?" Snape's deep voice made all three girls jump all of a sudden, and they each spun around to stare at the dark figure in the middle of the hallway behind them. They hadn't even made it out of the dungeons yet; they should've known better than to talk this loudly.

"Professor!" Cas shrieked, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if she'd been caught doing something terribly wrong. Robin sighed under her breath and resisted the temptation to roll her eyes; so much for getting the two sides in her life a little closer together tonight.

"Nobody!" Jorien was quick to reply, and even quicker to regain control of the situation. "We were just on our way to the ball, actually."

"Obviously." Snape and Robin replied at once, and Cas snorted in return. Oh, this was going great alright… more fuel to their flames.

"Yes, it is fairly obvious, isn't it? So we should return to doing just that, or we'll be late." Jorien flashed a quick smile, then turned on her heels and grabbed Cas by the arm to drag her along while looking back over her shoulder at Robin. "You go ahead, and we'll find the guys and meet you in the hall later, yes?" With that, the two girls disappeared down the hallway and around the next corner mere seconds later, leaving Robin frozen to her spot with a frown on her face.

"Is it me or are they being even weirder than usual?" Came Snape's dry remark from just behind her then, and Robin's eyes flew to meet his while an involuntary smile pulled at her lips.

"Oh, they're absolutely bonkers. Delusional, really, if they seriously believe that I am looking delectable to anyone tonight." She chuckled, in the honest hope that he hadn't heard more of the girls' pep talk than that. But then again, he knew how to take their ridiculous ideas and teenage delusions by now, so it really didn't matter all that much. "It would take a blind man to find that mess on my head attractive."

"If you say so." He quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement, then offered her his arm instead of the usual subtle hand on the small of her back. "Let's make an effort to make it to the ball before we miss the headmaster's great speech, shall we?"

Robin's smile brightened before she could help it, and she didn't even hesitate to accept. This was the closest thing to a date she would ever have. "We shall indeed."

They arrived in the great hall just seconds before Dumbledore rose to gain everyone's attention, and luckily therefore nobody paid them much mind. A few glances here and there, more likely than not accompanied by frowning faces that studied the sight of the two dark figures in the shadows by the doors, who looked almost indignantly bored. And boy, the headmaster could talk and talk forever if he fancied it, about courage and justice and kindness and all those nimble ideals Robin fancied a more practical approach to. But finally his words faded into applause, and the crowds began moving and talking again.

"Is it me or does the speech get more righteous every single year?" Asked Robin, while she let Snape lead her towards their usual table in the far corner, only to find a group of adults sitting there already. In immediate confusion, they halted in the middle of the room, and her eyes found his in a silent question. Good thing it had become almost a bit of a routine that whenever she failed to take notice of something that was going on around her, he would know exactly what she had missed and could fill her in.

"Dumbledore opened the ball to a larger public this year." He explained, with a quiet yet undoubtedly disdainful tone. "Parents, important families, retired professors, ministry officials and the like."

"Why on earth would he allow them at a school ball? I mean… isn't this technically supposed to be for the students' enjoyment?" Robin inquired, while they continued moving through the room in search of an empty table, but finding none.

"Remember what I told you about the reasons for bringing this ball into existence in the first place?" Snape mused, and his eyes continued scanning the room, but not for a table anymore. Robin wondered who he was searching for.

"Oh. Yes, I do remember that."

"Well, let me assure you that this decision on the headmaster's end has something to do with the very likes of it."

"Great…" Robin sighed under her breath, and finally they settled for just standing at the edge of the dancefloor like everyone else who hadn't yet put a claim on a sitting spot. Somehow, the entire thing didn't seem like a fun night with friends anymore, but the very thing that was prone to make her anxious. Too many people, too many strangers mostly, and no certain place to sit and endure it all from the ranks… this was going to be hell. Or maybe, not entirely.

"May I have the first dance?" Snape asked, just when the occasion was announced and the musicians got ready to lead the way through the night. He held a hand out to Robin, in an expression of calm neutrality rather than the usual scowl even though they were surrounded by hundreds of people. Robin's heart skipped a beat, and she had to remind herself not to grin like a fool while yet her lips parted in surprise. Had he actually just asked her to dance? With words, in public, and for the first dance out of all the possible ones tonight?

"Isn't the first dance just for important people and their dates?" She quirked an eyebrow at him in mild amusement at last, choosing humour over astonishment and tingles, which would border dangerously on allowing herself to hope again.

"It is also reserved for the professors and overall staff, and even if you rightly so keep ignoring that, this group also entails me. As it is, I do not dance with anyone but you, so they will have to bear with the two of us, or live with neither." He replied so smoothly that Robin had no time to doubt or question his words when she placed her hand in his and let him lead her onto the dancefloor. Bloody hell… now all eyes were on her indeed, and she actually couldn't care less for once.

They got into position as did the other couples around them, some of which Robin knew and some of which she hadn't seen before, but when the music started, the world faded in return and left only Robin and Snape and the music behind. This wasn't hell, she found, but rather a piece of heaven on earth. Just the two of them, moving through the open space while never once looking at anything but each other. And in the very spirit of two weeks prior, Robin yet again couldn't help the smile on her lips as she held his gaze. The only thing she missed was the warmth of his hand on her back, the almost scorching touch, as now the thick fabric of her dress dimmed it down quite a bit and left her to feel the comforting pressure of it more than the heat. How nice would it be to have his fingers dancing across her skin? To dwell in his warmth for a bit and let it burn out the cold winter within her? She could only dream.

"I believe we make quite the sight." His quiet voice broke through her haze of excited, calm ambivalence, and the world regained it's hard corners and outlines. Gone was the dream, delayed to haunt her in her sleep tonight.

"We simply know how to dance." She replied with a subtle smirk, and found that the world wasn't quite so bad either if it still entailed the two of them together. "They probably don't get to see that all too often."

"I was thinking more along the terms of our common choice of… unusual wardrobe, but yes, I agree with your assessment as well."

"What other than unusual would they have expected of the dungeon bat and the insane girl?"

"Is that how people think of us?"

"I believe so." Robin smiled, but it took everything she had not to show the true effect his words were having on her. Was she so far gone by now that all it took was an 'us' ghosting past his lips to unravel the walls that contained her emotions? It seemed so.

The music stopped then, fading off the last strings as their flowing moments came to a halt as well. Too bad it was over. But perhaps they could do this again, now that the first dance had officially proclaimed them as partners for the night. It was an official custom after all, right? Robin held onto that string of hope at least as they made their way off the dancefloor and straight towards the far corner where their usual table lay empty now. Too bad for whoever had vacated it; now it was Robin's to keep.

They sat down to face the hall as always, and while it was significantly more crowded this year than it had been in the years prior, that also gave them quite a few more victims to observe and comment on. They got exactly two hours to themselves before their social invisibility was broken by the still distant but determined appearance of Cas. In her tow the other six people, who looked a lot less eager than her to get anywhere near Snape tonight. Robin sighed to herself in mild disappointment before anyone even spoke up; she would have to make a choice between her friends and her best friend now, and she hated that beyond measure. Why did life have to be so unfair at times?

"I know what you're thinking." Snape said then, quietly even though the ground of people still had to come anywhere near the table. "And you shouldn't be concerned, I understand the problem fairly well. I will leave if they wish to spend time with you."

He was already up on his feet and ready to just walk away when Robin caught his hand, and held onto it so tightly that his eyebrows lifted up when he looked back down at her.

"Don't think it's a decision I want to make, okay?" She asked with a sadness she didn't bother to hide. "It's not a decision I can make, actually, and I simply would've told them to deal with it or be the ones to leave if they've got a problem with your company."

"I know. And since it isn't a decision you should have to make, I made it for you now, by offering to leave."

"I don't want to spend the evening without you…" The words spilled past Robin's lips without any restraint now, and she was glad for that. It made the corners of his lips curl upwards for a fleeting moment at least.

"In that case, I might have to come and rescue you from their fangs in two hours for another dance. Good solution?"

"Make that one hour instead and we have a good solution indeed." She smiled up at him, and only now realised that she was still clasping his hand like a lifeline. Reluctantly but necessarily she finally let go. "I can't have four teen girls and three boys around me for much longer than that."

"As you wish." He returned a knowing not-smirk for a second, then turned on his heels and disappeared in the crowds just when Cas reached the table.

______________________________

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[captainkappa]

Fanfic:: Soul Rebel

The first of at least two unrelated trans Din Djarin character studies I have planned. 

This one is all about Din’s relationship with his name, how the Tribe doesn’t use them and how that might affect his thoughts on his birthname.

Title from "True Trans Soul Rebel" by Against Me!

AO3 Link

-=-=-=-=-=-

The Mandalorian gave up his name when he came of age and donned his helmet. All members of the Tribe did the same, taking on titles instead if there was need to differentiate. In the wake of the Purge, secrecy was their survival, their survival their strength.

This is the Way.

The lack of a name never impacted him as he joined the Guild. Everywhere he went, no matter the planet, the dingy bar his bounties usually end up in, it was always “Mando.”

He didn’t think about his name until five years later, when he was leaving Axxilan atmosphere, a disgruntled debtor with him in the cockpit. Her braids had come loose in the ensuing struggle, her clothes askew. She put up such a fight, it would’ve have been easier to bring her in cold, but the pay dropped more than half if she was dead.

Mando rolled his shoulders, muscles pulling where she got him good. This was his first round of bounties he’d taken with the new carbonite chamber he’d had installed. After that fight, he was going to enjoy the hiss of carbonite gas a little more.

Just as he was about to punch in the hyperspace code, the bounty cleared her throat.

“Hey, what was the name on the bounty?”

His hand hovered over the buttons and he turned over his shoulder to look at her. She was looking right at him, brave, considering her hands were in cuffs and Maker knew what was waiting for her when they got back to Nevarro.

She rolled her eyes, straightening up. “Look, I just want to know what to expect. This isn’t my first rodeo and I want to know if these idiots have old information.”

“Why?”

“Because if these guys are going to deadname me the entire time we talk about money I may or may not owe, that requires mental prep.”

Mando blinked behind his helmet, not expecting that answer. He forced his hand to punch in the last of the hyperspace code, deliberately placed it on the arm rest as the stars streaked around them. His hand wanted to thumb the freshly healed scar on his arm, where his hormone implant had been installed a couple months age.

It had taken a while to get to that point, skimming the top off several bounties he brought in to afford it.

(He’d felt terrible about it for weeks, finally kneeling in the Armorer’s forge and admitting what he’d done. She had kneeled across from him and asked if, in pursuing his transition, he had ever broken the Creed. He hadn’t, and was surprised when in response, she went in detail about how surgeries might be difficult, but they could look at options.

He hadn’t known what to say, so the Armorer said it for him.

This is the Way.)

The bounty had started shifting on her feet, uncomfortable with the silence that had permeated the cockpit. Mando pulled out the puck and clocks it on, revealing her rotating holo, “WANTED” in big red text, and the name, Rassina Netel, crawling along the bottom.

She leaned forward, cuffed hands leaning on the seat beside her for support. He watched her eyes flick to-and-fro, reading and rereading the small amount of text. Finally, satisfied, her shoulders dropped, releasing tension.

“Thank you,” she muttered, righting herself so she was standing again.

Mando turned off the puck and slipped it back into his pocket.

“Was it… right?”

Could a name be right? Was that the word for it?

“Yeah, yeah it was.” Rassina rolled her shoulders, shaking out her arms. “Guess it’s my turn in the carbonite, huh? Oh, don’t give me that look. I saw it on the way in, heard through a few friends who’ve been through the process.”

It was only a second’s hesitation before he said, “Ran out of fuel.”

“Oh.”

She looked almost as surprised as when he first walked into town.

“Come on,” he stood up, angling his body away in the small space. “You’re still getting strapped in below.”

The look on her face said “fair enough” as she walked ahead of him, awkwardly climbing down with cuffed hands.

He strapped Rassina in one of the seats that folded out from the wall, hopefully at such an angle she wouldn’t be able to see the bold-faced lie he made in claiming the chamber was out of fuel.

Mando climbed back up to the cockpit, silent in hyperspace, but his head was busy with thoughts of a name he thought he’d left behind.

-=-=-=-

Weeks later, with coordinates plugged in for his next bounty and carbonite chamber empty and waiting, he retreated into his small bed on board to hopefully catch some sleep.

It was a fool’s errand. There was anticipation in his veins even though it would be some time before he was out of hyperspace. He settled on closing his eyes, falling into somewhere between awake and asleep.

His thoughts wandered and he wasn’t concerned with pinning one down. The Guide, the Tribe, the foundlings, his name-

The thought was sudden, like someone screamed it in his ear, forcing his eyes open.

I want to keep my last name.

He stared up at the short ceiling. It was like being woken from a nightmare, yet also like coming home. His chest stuttered, rising and falling as competing thoughts wrapped around his brain.

The Tribe doesn’t have names, he gave his up when he put on the helmet.

But his last name was a comfort, even if the same couldn’t be said for his first name, something that he should have no use for now.

He sat up, gloved hands raking through brown curls. There was no way he was going to get sleep now.

He shuffled out of his bed. There was probably some weapon that needed cleaning.

-=-=-=-

Thoughts on his first name came and went. He avoided them when he could, distracting himself with work and other tasks.

The Razor Crest had never looked cleaner, even if the bags under his eyes grew.

He lost himself in fights, brought more bounties in cold, but one fight had his cuisse cracked. He got the bastard who did it, shoving them harder than needed in the carbonite. He returned to the Tribe, money in one hand, broken armor in the other.

The Armorer and he nodded in greeting.

“You’re lucky,” she said, inspecting the damage, “there’s another cuisse in need of repair. Both can be fixed now.”

Mando stilled as the Armorer began. The melting of metal, the blaster fire from droids, the clanging of her hammer against beskar, the screams of people around him, sounds and images filled his mind. It was a feeling he should have been used to.

But this time, he stayed stock still, finally unable to avoid the question that has been rolling around in his head since he admitted he wanted to keep his last name.

Am I abandoning my parents if I give myself a new first name?

Some of their last words were his name, the name they gave him. The last name was theirs as well, but his first name was chosen for him. What would it mean to give that name up?

The sounds of the hammer reverberated through him.

He brought one hand up, tracing where he knew the implant was in his arm. He thought of the part of himself he considered selfish, the part that forced him to think of how he felt about his body, his mind. That part of him asked if his parents would want to see him burdened under the name that was no longer his.

He could do this for himself, something no one needed to know about.

The Armorer handed him a new cuisse, half maroon, half silver, and Mando thanked her.

-=-=-=-

Time passed.

He chose a name. A name he whispered to himself before going out on bounties, before entering the Armory, before going to bed.

A name all his, that fit him like newly minted beskar.

-=-=-=-

When Mando heard Moff Gideon call out a name that wasn’t his – had never been his, if he was being honest – his blood ran cold.

It wasn’t the knowledge that Gideon knew his birth name - Gideon was an ISB agent during the Purge, of course he’d know his birth name – it was the looks Cara and Greef gave him, confused and curious.

But it wasn’t something he had the luxury to focus on. A web launcher was on their door, Kuiil was not responding, and Mando knew, better than he knew himself, that he would not let Gideon get his hands on the child.

So he swallowed the pain down, explained how he knew who Moff Gideon was, and started working out breaking down the grate.

After that, the day was a blur, more so once the explosion hit him like a starship. It only felt real once the child was back in his arms. He doesn’t want examine how right it felt, having the kid on his hip, looking up at him with those large brown eyes.

He stood on the planes of Nevarro with Greef and Cara, all three exhausted but happy they lived through it all.

Mando moved to take off with his new jetpack, but he stopped, thinking back on what Gideon said.

A Mandalorian was more than a name. A Mandalorian was a Creed and a culture. He gave up his name when he swore the Creed. What he gave himself instead was just for him.

But now, looking at the only two people he could consider friends, after everything they had been through in the past day, he couldn’t leave them with his birth name in their hearts.

He shifted the child in his hold, not knowing if he could understand him as well.

“I know…” he started, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I know you heard what Gideon said back there… but he was wrong. That’s not my name. My name is Din Djarin.”

It felt like his chest plate had fallen off, his heart laid open bare. There was a beat of silence that seemed to stretch on forever and every anxiety he had about speaking the words pools forth.

Greef broke the silence with a slap on the back. “Well Din, just know you’re welcome back any time. Your pick of the lot.”

“Yeah,” Cara said, breaking into a smile, “and that name fits way better.”

He nodded to them, unable to better translate the smile beneath his helmet. He tilted his helmet down to the child, who looked at him with a smile.

Din didn’t have the words to describe how he felt, so he shifted his grip again.

“You ready to go, kid?”

The kid responded with an enthusiastic coo as Din powered up the jetpack.

#din djarin #trans din djarin #any transphobia will be blocked #obviously i shouldnt have to say that #also obviously this is just my interpretation if you have diff ideas go nuts #the mandalorian #kappa writes #my fanfic #star wars #sw

[aswallowssong]

OWP (but make it December?) Day 12 - My BFF

These are back too! I forgot I had already written this one (bless) so I guess the one that’s basically just silliness will have to wait until tomorrow... oops?

Read on AO3

-----

JJ had brought the game under the guise that they could only play so much poker in a five hour flight. 

Kit knew that it was really because Hotch would never let them play five hours of poker on the jet. Someone would come away wounded.

She also knew it was for her benefit. She’d been working between sites for two months, and she didn’t know much about anyone on the team, save for Morgan. Even with their morning workouts, they were surface level friends at best. 

Somehow she thought that it might have been Hotch behind it, but she couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t going to ask. While still holding fast to the mantra that she wasn’t a part of the BAU team, the more they made an attempt to include her, the more she wished it were true.

“Okay, this one says, who’s your best friend?”

“Lame,” Elle said, her small grin full of mirth. Morgan nodded, “Yeah, that’s a boring one. Why do you always pick the most mellow cards, Jayje?”

JJ pouted momentarily. “You have to pick off the top, Morgan. What was I supposed to do, look through the cards until I found one I liked? That’s cheating.”

“Actually, I don’t think you can cheat in games like this, because there isn’t a point system. No winner, or loser, would be affected by the cards chosen.”

“This isn’t a game you can win,” Kit said, “If there isn’t a point system, how would you win at all?”

Reid thought for a moment with his eyebrows pulled together before he looked over at JJ and said simply. “This isn’t a game.”

“I didn’t say it was a game,” JJ said evenly, though the annoyance radiating off of her was entirely palpable. Elle shrugged as she and Morgan shared a look, but Spencer wasn’t done. “Actually, you said ‘Okay everyone, we aren’t playing cards for five hours, we’re playing a game that’-”

“Who’s your best friend, Reid?” Elle said, effectively both cutting off his verbatim quote of JJ from an hour before, and his impending death-by-Kit-glare if he continued. She hated when he quoted someone back to themselves. It felt like Reid trying to show off, and she hated a show off. 

Reid was clearly caught off guard, though he was the one next to JJ. The rule was that everyone had to answer but the person holding the card, and Reid was seated on JJ’s other side. “Oh, um. I don’t know. Morgan?”

“Aw, thanks Pretty Boy,” Morgan said, heckling from across the table. “I’ll say you, but just because you said me, and you make the coffee in the breakroom almost good compared to the way Elle makes it.”

Elle, who was next to Morgan, rolled her eyes and shoved at him. “Listen, that coffee sucks without my help.”

“Who’s your best friend, Elle?” JJ asked, she and Kit sharing the same laugh as they watched the two bicker back and forth. Elle thought for a second before she said, “I guess Liza. She and I went through the academy together, and then we were both in Seattle. We get together when she’s in town and try to talk, but…” She trailed off and gestured vaguely, but they all knew. Kit nodded along with the others. She felt like she barely ever talked to her siblings anymore, especially the ones she didn’t live with. The BAU was running them all ragged, one day at a time.

Elle looked up at Kit, nodded at her. “Alright, Lep. You’re last, go ahead.”

“Hotch and Gideon didn’t go,” Kit said, nodding towards the men on the other side of the jet. They both insisted they were not playing, but they’d still been asked every question, and both had answered with little to no interest.

“Haley,” Hotch said easily, without even looking up from his file.

“David Rossi,” Gideon said, barely glancing up from his book before looking back down.

The group of five around the table were silent for a second before Elle nodded, looking over at Kit and saying, “Okay, there you go. Haley and David Rossi.”

“Who’s yours?” JJ said, giving Kit a small, encouraging smile.

Kit took a breath and tilted her head. “Um. Oh, okay. Monty, easily.”

“Monty isn’t your best friend,” Morgan said, and Kit raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, no?”

“No, she’s your identical twin sister who you work and live with. That’s not friendship, that’s codependency.”

Kit raised an eyebrow at him, eyes going hard and defensive. She knew he was joking, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “Okay, so, Ari then?”

“Don’t you all live together?” Reid asked, tactlessly. “That would make Morgan’s reasoning sound for both your… twins? Siblings? How are you supposed to phrase that?”

“Cúpla,” she said easily, “Ari and I aren’t identical twins.”

“You’re in a set of triplets,” Elle pointed out. “I think that counts.���

These fucking people.

“Okay, well, then…” Kit trailed off, ears burning as she realized she didn’t really have any friends that weren’t Ari or Monty. They spent their time together on Sundays, the only day they all had off, and Kit saw Ari in the evenings and Monty leaving work. All her other time was spent in the clinic, or at the BAU.

“Then?” JJ prompted, and Kit sighed and looked away from their group. “Then I guess I don’t have one.”

“You don’t talk with any of the girls from the clinic?” Morgan asked, and Kit shook her head. 

Elle prompted further, “What about your academy roommate?”

“Monty,” she said quietly, one hand coming up to tug at her left braid while the other slid along the leg of her pants. 

Morgan spoke again, gently throwing an elbow in her direction, “No secret boyfriend?”

She knew he was teasing. He was trying to bring the mood back up; the mood she’d clearly just crushed by admitting that she didn’t have any friends at all. “I don’t have time for a secret boyfriend, even if I wanted one,” Kit said, rolling her eyes and swatting at his shoulder. 

Reid looked confused at the other end of the table, next to Elle. “We have a two day weekend every week. Surely if you wanted to go out, you could go on either Friday or Saturday night without seeing sleep repercussions?”

Kit shook her head. This conversation was very quickly going from sort of sad to super depressing. “I work Saturdays in the clinic. My only day off during the week is Sunday, and if we’re on a case, I don’t get a day off at all.”

“You work six days a week?” JJ asked, clearly unaware. Kit didn’t care, she’d never told them, and hadn’t anticipated it coming up. She didn’t really care. Why would she?

She was sort of glad the conversation was scooting away from her lack of any conceivable friendship.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug, “I have to keep my hours balanced. Three days with you, three days with them.”

“That doesn’t leave you a lot of personal time for friends.” Elle crossed one leg over the other, actively wrangling the conversation back into the super depressing. Kit wished she would have left it alone, but she knew it was strange. What twenty five year old had literally no friends?

They were quiet again for far too long. Kit refused to look up, or around, or at anything at all. She focused on the dryness of her hands, constantly chapped and raw from washing and washing in the clinic. She was startled when, out of anyone sitting there, Reid spoke up. 

“You talk to us,” he said simply.

The other three nodded immediately, words tumbling and spilling as if they’d all been wanting to speak up, and now the floodgate was open for them.

“You came to my apartment when I got strep,” JJ said. “I wouldn’t have called anyone but a friend for that.”

“And I’ve never had a better training partner,” Morgan said, “No one else is competitive enough.”

“I didn’t think anyone else would share the same taste in music as I do, but then we caught you at the bar, and I knew you were cool before, but that really sold it.”

Kit looked around at them before feeling a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She knew what they were doing, of course, but the feelings coming off of them were genuine. They meant what they said, and she was incredibly grateful. She didn’t let the tears that threatened to prick get any further than a threat, but she had to physically swallow and clear her throat before she could speak.

“Thank you. All of you. I guess… I guess you guys are my best friends.”

Morgan scoffed, giving her a smirk and nodding towards Reid. “You may have to fight Pretty Ricky over there for it,” he said, watching for Reid’s reaction, which was exactly what they all expected it to be.

“‘Best’' is a qualifier of relative quality, which means that its place as a superlative adjective makes it of a singular quantity. Superlative adjectives are used to show-”

“You can have more than one best friend, Spence,” JJ said, cutting him off and nodding toward Kit, who’s cheeks lit a similar color to her hair. He seemed to realize and read the situation, though he’d already shoved his foot in his mouth, and instead of continuing just said quietly, “Right. Yeah, obviously. The world isn’t a thesis.”

“The world isn’t a thesis,” Elle echoed before nudging the deck of questions towards him. “Your turn, Doctor Reid.”

He fidgeted with his fingers before pulling the top card from the deck, reading aloud, “What is your favorite color?”

“No!”

“Throw the whole game away!”

“It’s not a game! We’ve established that this does not meet the qualities that allow something to be a game!”

“Shut up, Reid!”

Kit watched as the jet settled, all of the attention being pulled away from her as a warm presence settled in her chest. 

Yes. These people, who drive me crazy, and have no concept of personal care of any kind. These people are my best friends.

#Brenna writes things #or at least she tries #October Writing Prompts #OWP #day 12 #My BFF #Criminal Minds #SCRC #Kit needs some friends

[high-warlock-of-brooklyn]

001 The Internal Devices 002 Herongraystairs 003 Jem :)

001) The Infernal Devices

Favourite character: William Owen Herondale, Jem’s Parabatai, Gwilym, Edmund and Linette’s son, (I can go on for a while)

Least favourite character: Nathaniel Gray. I mean, I hate Benedict Lightworm and Axel Mortmain as much as the next person, but Nate is just a sleaze. Who gives off their sister like that! Who cares if she’s human or not! I hate how he repeatedly became the worst humanity had to offer, when all he needed to do was love. He killed his own mother, he traded his sister, he misled Jessie. I am absolutely disgusted by him at times.

5 favourite ships (canon or non-canon): 1. Herongraystairs. They’re all so in love with each other! With such ease they sacrifice their own love for the other ones!

2. Charlotte and Henry. They’re so in love, and they don’t even realize it for a while, and when they know that the other one loves them too, they’re so lovely! And that discussion about baby names was so cute!

3 Gabrilly. Cecily showed him a way to be the better version of himself. She needed someone to believe in, he needed someone to believe in him, together, they’re perfect.

4. Gideon and Sophie. Ah, the original disaster Lightwood! I mean, scones, really? At least get something you love! I love how they have both been through so much, and they find peace and love in each other.

5. Edmund and Linette. We don’t see much of them, but Edmund loved her enough to get himself deruned. And they are so nice people!

Character I find most attractive: Will Herondale. James Carstairs. Gabriel Lightwood. Cecily Herondale. They’re hot, I’m weak, okay!

Character I would marry: Okay, I could marry almost everyone in that institute except Jessie and Bridget (those songs are just depressing!) And of course, Magnus.

Character I would be best friends with: With my sarcasm and dramatic bi ass? Will, without a doubt.

A random thought: TID is my favourite of the entire TSC (TEC doesn’t count). I love the characters, I love the story, I love the ships, I love it.

An unpopular opinion: Will did not take advantage of Jem. Will and Jem are not in a relationship where they will take advantage of each other. Jem chose to pull Will closer when he tried to push everyone away, for a valid reason of course. Jem chose to be Will’s Parabatai. They didn’t do it because Will pitied Jem and Jem had no-one else. They did it because they genuinely are the best of each other.

My canon OTP: Herongraystairs, I mean, there’s nothing else I can do when the three of them are together.

My non-canon OTP: I don’t really have any.....

Most badass character: Sophie and Charlotte. Sophie is such an amazing character, she’s strong, and she doesn’t take crap from anyone. Sophie proved that you don’t have to wield weapon and have Angel blood to be a fighter. And Charlotte is a true leader, and a loving mother, and a badass Shadowhunter. She kept her head high, and didn’t hesitate to do what’s right, at the cost of everything, and I think that’s amazing.

Most epic villain: I actually don’t love Mortmain that much as a villain. I mean, I just didn’t think his final goal to procreate a new species with Tessa to defeat Shadowhunters is that much villain-y. I actually loved the Dark Sisters. They kept coming back with a vengeance, and they were definitely scarring.

Pairing I am not a fan of: I’m not a fan of Jessie x Nate. Jessie was wrong, definitely, and she could’ve chosen better, and Nate is just a terrible excuse of a human being.

Character I feel the writers screwed up: No-one really. I wish we had more of the Lightwood brothers and Cecily, but apart from that, I love it as it is.

Favourite friendship: Will and Magnus. Their friendship is so important. Magnus has seen Shadowhunters throw away utensils just because Downworlders touched them. And Will gave him the respect he deserves, and thought of him as a friend, and Magnus helped him through some of the darkest moments of his life. I love them.

Character I most identify with: I identify with Will a bit more than the others. I know what it feels to live without a sliver of hope, and the fact that Will has soldiered on is an inspiration to me. I love books. Oh, and I’m also terrified of ducks.

Character I wish I could be: I wish I could be like Sophie. Or Cecily.

002) Herongraystairs

When I started shipping them: When all three of them came to the breakfast table and Tessa joked about Will and the Six-fingered-Nigel. Jem and Tessa teaming up to make Will speechless is one of my favourite things about this ship.

My thoughts: My OTP in TID. They are so selfless for each other, ready to sacrifice everything to make sure the other two are happy. And that’s beautiful.

What makes me happy about them: That they all got to be together, in a way. Will and Jem were Parabatais for six years, Wessa had their marriage, and children, and now Jessa is living their life. At least they all had a chance to be happy with someone who knows that both of them share a part of their soul with the third one.  

What makes me sad about them: Clockwork Princess epilogue. And every time Jem talks about Will in present day. They both miss him so much, and so do I....

Things done in fanfics that annoy me: That there isn’t that much hype about this ship. I mean, I’ve read countless Malec fics, and there’s fics about other canon and non-canon ships too, but somehow Herongraystairs is not that much common, when there’s so much potential for them.

Things I look for in a fanfic: Well, I look for fanfics themselves... there really isn’t that much...

My wishlist: I hope we see more of Will’s ghost talking to Mina in TWP. It will be bittersweet, and maybe Jem or Tessa will see him somehow, and, well, a girl can hope....

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I don’t think they can ever end up with anyone other than themselves. I mean, Tessa never got involved with anyone since Will died (RIP), until Jem, and I don’t think she ever will. Their hearts have only the names of these three.

My happily ever after for them: I want them to be all together, them, all four of their children (Kit is a Jessa child), in a house. They can be just having a normal life, or a Shadowhunter life, but it doesn’t matter. Just as long as the whole family is together, I’m happy.

003) Jem Carstairs

How I feel about this character: You want me to tell you how I feel about the only person in the entire Shadow World who CANONICALLY didn’t do anything wrong? The only one so sweet and kind that even a demon cat (Church is a demon cat, and that’s that) cannot help but love? Because I will go on and on and on! Seriously, I love Jem.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Herongraystairs. That’s it. The three of them are one, and there’s not choosing just any two for me.

My favourite non-romantic relationship for this character: I love Jem and Kit’s relationship. Jem became the father, the guardian, the parent, the shoulder Kit needed, after losing everything, and that’s beautiful. Kit could’ve been misled, or hurt, and Jem made sure that he wasn’t, that he is loved. And their relationship is one of my favourite parts of GotSM. Kit truly found a family in the Carstairs, a dad, a mum, a sister, couple of ghosts, and that’s wonderful.

My unpopular opinion about this character: To anyone who thinks Jem is too perfect to be a good character, there is no such thing as too perfect to be good. Jem is inherently good. He is kind, even when it hurts, and he is kinder still. He saw his parents die in front of him, and he lost any hope to have a normal life. But he didn’t turn into a bitter person. He didn’t let kindness and love dry up in him. Instead, he loved tenfold. And that’s heroic. Everyone can be kind during their happy days. But knowing there’s no future, and knowing the pain that he knows, and still showing kindness and compassion, that takes courage, and purity of soul. The kind of person that Jem is.

One thing that I wish would’ve happened to this character in canon: I wish Jem could’ve had more time with Will. He lost his Parabatai, yes after a long long time, but for Jem and Will, it isn’t enough. I wanted them to have one last day, not as Brother Zachariah, but as Will and Jem, just one day spending time by each other.

Favourite friendship for this character: I love how Jem is a constant comfort for Charlotte. With Will being, well, Will, due to his curse, and Jessamine being her usual self, Jem was the source of comfort for Charlotte, when she needed assurance. And I love how he always makes sure that she knows how strong she is. Also, I love Jem and Sophie’s friendship. Yes, it was infatuation on Sophie’s part at first, but then it was pure friendship at the end, and that’s really amazing.

My crossover ship: I love how Jem and Lily are together. Lily is never crossing the boundary, and Jem is never cross with her. And the names. Oh the names!!!!

Thank you @therealsasori for the ask!!!

#asks #herongraystairs #will herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #charlotte fairchild #sophie collins #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #nathaniel gray #benedict lightworm #the infernal devices #tid #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

[holmesoverture]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 4

lol see this is why I never post fic, because I’m lousy at updating

First chapter be here Previous chapter be here More info on my fics in general

Warnings: Holmes is kinda stupid in this chapter and I’m too lazy to go back and fix it

Time for exposition woooo

*

“Eight months ago, I was hired to locate some Egyptian artifacts that had gone missing from the home of Sir Gideon Hibbert.  I am sure you all are familiar with the details, so I won’t waste your time by reciting them now.  So far as the Yard was concerned, the case concluded with Sir Gideon declining to bring any charge against young Harvey, but I was greatly dissatisfied with the product of my labour.  I knew that Harvey must have had an accomplice, as he was thoroughly ignorant of archaeology and yet he had managed to steal only the most valuable items in his father’s collection.  Due to the nature of Sir Gideon’s work, Harvey knew a great many people who possessed an encyclopedic knowledge of the subject, but none of them had particularly compelling motives beyond a potential desire for wealth, a desire so generic as to be useless to an investigator.  And so, in the absence of other clues, I had little choice but to put the case aside until such time as a fresh lead presented itself.

“That lead arrived to me this afternoon in the form of a letter from Lilly Archer, a parlour-maid in the employ of the Hibbert family.  In her epistle she expressed concern for her mistress’s plans for the Christmas party. But here, it will be much simpler for you to hear it in her own words.  Dr Watson will be delighted to read them out loud to you.”

He abstracted an envelope from his sleeve and pressed it to my chest with rather more force than I thought necessary.  I nevertheless accepted the missive, which ran as follows.

To Mr Sherlock Holmes,

I hope this letter reaches you in time to be of some service.  I should have sent it sooner but I allowed fear to stay my hand.  Now, at last, a sense of integrity has overcome my qualms about telling you the cause of my uneasiness.

I am a parlour-maid in the service of the Hibbert family of Belgravia.  You made the acquaintance of my employers during one of your previous cases, so I’ll not bore you with lengthy accounts of their characters and habits.  In the three years I have been in this position, I have been satisfied and content in every respect, excepting of course for the incident to which I previously alluded. The entire household was dismayed by Harvey Hibbert’s betrayal of his father’s love and trust, but we have learned to find a new, happy equilibrium following this loss.  Life seemed quite normal again until this past Saturday when Philomena Hibbert told me of her plans for her Christmas party, the same affair to which your friend Dr John Watson has been invited.  It all seemed perfectly routine until she said my services would not be required the night of the party, as she intended to hire outside help especially for the occasion.  I cannot tell you how disconcerted I was by this statement. During my time with the Hibberts I have served at many a party, even at very large ones, so despite Miss Hibbert’s assurances that her decision was in no way a reflection upon my capabilities, I could not but take the news personally.

This alone would not have been enough to arouse in me more than hurt feelings, but on the next night, I bore witness to Miss Hibbert engaging in a most curious ritual. It was very late, and I had bid Sir Gideon a good-night.  As I walked the hall toward the stair, the door to Sir Gideon’s study suddenly opened and Miss Hibbert stepped out.

“Oh good evening,” she greeted me very calmly, though I thought I noticed her jump when first she saw me.  “Going up to bed, I assume?”

“That’s right.  Do you need anything before I retire?”

“Not a thing.  I was just finishing some letters before the party tomorrow.  Sleep well, Lilly.”

“You as well, Miss Hibbert.”

Her presence in her father’s study was not itself suspicious, as she frequently makes use of it when Sir Gideon is not there.  Yet I could not forget her insistence upon hiring new maids for the Christmas party, nor her surprise upon seeing me in the hall.  Her excuse about why she had been in Sir Gideon’s study also lacked the ring of truth.  I had never known her to write letters so late in the day, and even if she had altered her routine, she could not have altered her skill with a pen.  Upon writing a letter, she always emerged with fresh ink stains upon her hands or her cuffs, but when I saw her last night skin and cloth alike were perfectly spotless.

When I reached my room I spent a great deal of time considering these very trivial matters and decided that they were, perhaps, not so trivial after all.  I began to suspect Miss Hibbert did not want new parlour-maids for the sake of the party as she claimed, but rather because she feared I might see something untoward if I were present.  I cannot begin to guess at what that something could be, and so I place the matter in your hands with the sincere hope that the only response I receive will be a firm chastisement for libelling such kind employers with my overzealous imaginings.

Very truly yours,

Lilly Archer

“A very observant girl, your Miss Lilly Archer,” Holmes said as he took back the letter.  “By the time I received her letter I had mere hours to prepare myself for the party, so I dressed in the only raiment which I knew was guaranteed to grant me access to the Hibberts’ home and left my rooms at once.”

I had closely watched Holmes’ door before I departed and seen nothing.  I could only conclude that he had left by his bedroom window, gown and all.

“It is very brave of you, exposing your source’s name,” said Professor Angues.

“Surely you are not implying that she is in any danger from you or Miss Hibbert, you who were too indolent to do anything more than nudge her brother in the direction of your dirty work?  I think Miss Archer is quite safe from you, though given Sir Gideon’s propensity for laying the blame for his misfortunes at the feet of the innocent, she may find herself at the employment agency come morning. Given the events of the past year that may be a relief to her.”

Sir Gideon said nothing, but I was heartened by Miss Linwood’s look of resolute concern.  I could only hope she would intervene on behalf of the upright Miss Lilly Archer, should such action become necessary.  In the days that followed Holmes and I had several long discussions on the importance of protecting the anonymity of his clients regardless of how little harm he believed such an action would cause, or how much better his explanations would be received with the inclusion of such information.  I cannot speak to whether or not he truly understood my arguments, but at the very least he has not revealed another client in such a fashion since that day.

“Miss Hibbert, you’ve been very quiet,” said Holmes. “Perhaps you would care to share with us the history of your association with the distinguished Professor Angues, and he can check you if he remembers differently.”

Miss Hibbert raised an eyebrow and I thought for a moment that she would refuse to speak.  She must have realised, however, the futility of her situation and that nothing she said could make it any worse for her.

“I have known Rodrick since I was a small child. He and my father often spent their days working away in Dad’s study, and Rodrick spent more dinners here than anywhere else.  For years he seemed to me a jovial man, forever sending my siblings and myself on small errands and paying us in sweets.  But as the years passed, maturity opened my eyes and I saw that his good humour concealed a most resentful soul, jealous of the heights to which my father’s career had risen over his own.”

“You do me an injustice,” Professor Angues interjected. “I was not always the bitter creature you describe.  When I thought of Sir Gideon and myself as equals I was both content in my work and proud to be his associate.  But after he accepted his knighthood I reflected upon my own professional achievements and accolades and found them miserably deficient when compared with those of my colleague.  For forty years I devoted myself to my career, foregoing the comforts of marriage and family in order to better serve my chosen field, and to what end?  To see my accomplishments overshadowed by a man who had not sacrificed so much as a quarter of what I had?  It was too much, too much for me.”

“It would be most uncharitable of me to begrudge him such sentiments,” said Miss Hibbert.  “Dad encouraged my interest in Egyptology and sent me to the finest women’s colleges, for all the good it’s done me.  The only expeditions I went on were those in which my father invited me to participate and I derived no pleasure from them, harassed and belittled as I was by the very men whom I had hoped would welcome me as their peer.  I should have been very happy indeed to be an equal to them, but their mockery ignited within me the desire to prove myself their better.”

She paused for a sip of wine.  I thought, with no small regret, how tragic it was that so many brilliant sparks should be snuffed out by the world’s unfair and uneducated expectations.

“Without ever giving voice to our grievances we bonded over them.  With every tribute that came Dad’s way, our admiration for him and our acrimony towards everyone else grew in tandem.  Finally, one clear April night, we aired our mutual complaints to each other and made a fateful decision: if our knowledge and our experience could not earn us true greatness, we would settle for notoriety.  My brother Harvey was always something of a misfit, flitting from occupation to occupation with an incurable restlessness.  He was unemployed at the time and we thought he might be receptive to the idea of any method by which he might gain wealth and excitement.  Upon securing his cooperation, we agreed to move forward with our plans.

“The night before we acted, I was seized by piercing doubt.  After all, every reputable Egypt enthusiast had snubbed me, so why would the disreputable ones behave differently?  I said as much to Harvey, who quickly put me to rights.

“‘I very much doubt anyone willing to illegally buy Egyptian artifacts is going to quibble over the sex or the rank of his suppliers, so long as the merchandise is of a good quality,’ said he.  I took his words to heart and have never doubted myself since.”

“How lovely it must be to have such a supportive brother,” said I, and Miss Hibbert ignored me.

“Our first attempt was unsuccessful, as you well know. Poor Harvey bore the brunt of our failure but loyalty sealed his lips and shielded us from your efforts to identify us.  Rodrick escaped to the States without the treasures he had hoped to sell there, Harvey was evicted, and I was left alone to brood for six long, lonely, infuriating months.  Even if I had conceived of a new plan during this period I would not have had the courage to implement it so soon after such a devastating blow.  Was this my destiny, to never accomplish a thing no matter how diligently I devoted myself?

“On the day Rodrick Angues returned from his lecture tour, I paid him a visit at his home in Surrey and found him in a joyous mood.

“‘I have always believed that even the gravest misfortunes serve a higher purpose,’ he said. ‘But it is only now that I realise what the reason for our failure was.  During my time in America, I was approached by many a gentleman who expressed the heartiest enthusiasm at the idea of owning a piece of Egyptian history. They were so enthusiastic, in fact, that most dropped subtle hints to indicate the method by which certain objects were obtained for them was of no consequence.  I have here a list of the items they specified.’  He handed me a slip of paper containing a lengthy list of artifacts.  ‘Now that we know precisely which artifacts are in demand and how much my contacts are willing to pay to obtain them, we can take from your father those for which we can guarantee a buyer rather than assuming that the most valuable are the most desired.’

“As I perused Rodrick’s list, I became more and more certain that his plan was a solid one and that he and Harvey and I should have little trouble in making a success of it.  Although my father wanted no association with my prodigal brother, I have remained as close to him as before, and Dad never begrudged a sister’s love for her brother.  I was certain that Harvey, cut off as he was, would be keener than ever to lay his hand upon our father’s treasures.  When I later consulted with him I would be proven correct, but in that moment, I felt compelled to warn Rodrick of a probable obstacle to our success.

“‘This thing won’t be as simple as it was last time,’ said I.  ‘Dad has grown paranoid since the incident with Harvey and locked his Egyptian valuables away where no-one can see or get at them.  The only time he displays them anymore is when he is expecting company.’

“‘Has he not told you where they are and how to access them?’

“‘Of course, but that is a problem.  It is only me he has told.  If anything of his were to suddenly go missing, he would know I have betrayed him.’

“‘Then we must plan accordingly,’ said Rodrick. ‘If he only exhibits his collection at social gatherings, then we will raid it during a social gathering.’

“I reminded him of the Christmas party Dad liked to have every year, and thus the date of our undertaking was decided.

“I had intended to hire an additional parlour-maid for the night of the dinner-party to help Lilly in her duties.  Now, however, I made up my mind to give Lilly the night off, and to tell Dad that I would hire two parlour-maids who had special experience in serving at such events to see if it was worth the extra cost or if our regular parlour-maid was good enough.  He agreed at once, never suspecting that one of the supposed servants was his own son, and the other an associate of his whose true identity I would not divulge even if I had such information.”

“I won’t say anything either!” cried Harvey Hibbert, in what turned out to be his first and last contribution to our conversation.

“But Mr Holmes was the other maid,” said Miss Linwood.

“I could hardly be expected to know that,” Miss Hibbert replied, lips thinning with irritation.  “I had never met the woman Harvey employed to help him in this endeavour, so I had no reason to suspect that ‘Chastity Page’ was anyone other than who she said she was.  Harvey did appear to me somewhat anxious when he arrived but I blamed this on simple nerves, and as we never had a moment alone together, there was no opportunity for him to warn me of the unlucky turn of events.”

“I believe I might shed some light upon this matter,” said Holmes, cheerfully.  “It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at Lowndes Square, and I waited at the corner until I saw two women approach this house.  I intercepted the pair and begged them to allow me to replace one of them at the party.  They were at first resistant, so I told a most extravagant lie about my violent drunkard husband and starving babe.  Oh, it was an exquisite performance!  I wish you all could have seen it.  I carried on until one of the women acquiesced and hurried away without so much as a ‘good-day.’  It would seem that even thieves are not without some heart.  The woman who remained, whom we now know to be Harvey Hibbert, seemed very uneasy about the whole business but said nothing as we ascended the stair together.

“Harvey, who had identified himself as Miss Mildred Myers, and I spent most of the afternoon preparing for the party, and I am sure you will agree that we executed our duties most efficaciously, with two notable exceptions.  The first, as you saw, was when I fainted in the middle of the second course.  I was a bit overzealous with the corset, I suppose. The second was instigated by Harvey himself.  As soon as we served dessert he excused himself from the kitchen, giving a pretext that I could not quite hear.  By this time I had already deduced that Miss Myers was not who she appeared to be, so I followed him through the conservatory and into the parlour.  There I found him checking the bottom of each artifact and, if they met some standard that was quite unknown to me, he loaded them into a satchel he had procured from somewhere.  I confronted him and we came to blows.  But I’m afraid I am monopolising the conversation.  Do continue, Miss Hibbert.”

“There is not much to tell that has not already been told.  The reason for Harvey’s disguise was simple.  Everyone knows he is no longer welcome in this house, so were any witnesses to see him coming or going, suspicion would be cast in his direction. But if the parlour-maids perpetrated the crime, then not only would the police have no reason to suspect Harvey, they would spend all their energies trying to locate the sticky-fingered women while Harvey rested easily and Rodrick arranged for the shipment of the stolen goods to America.  We all would be completely safe and free of suspicion.

“As for the supposed letters I was writing last night, Lilly was quite right to distrust my excuse.  I was using pen and ink to place a small mark upon the underside of each artifact Harvey was to remove from our father’s possession. Harvey had complained of having to memorise which items to take and which to leave during our first attempt, so I thought this would make his task all the simpler.  I could not but feel tense and anxious as I hurried to finish my assignment before Dad caught me, hence my surprise upon seeing Lilly just outside the door to the study.”

“But why did you do it, Philomena?” cried Sir Gideon.  “Have I been such a horrible father that I deserve such mistreatment from not one but two of my children?  And you, Rodrick!  How many hours did we spend studying together at university?  How many adventures have we had?  We have known each other these thirty-seven years!  Did all of that time and work and amity mean nothing to you? To either of you?”

“Not everything is about you,” Miss Hibbert crisply replied.  For the world I could not remember what about her had so captured my fancy mere hours before.  “Our feelings towards you are unchanged.  It is only that our feelings towards personal glory have grown enough to overtake all other sentiments.  Now that those feelings are laid bare and our plans brought to ruin a second time, I will pack my belongings and leave this house to seek my fortunes elsewhere.”

Sir Gideon made no move to stop Miss Hibbert as she swept from the dining-room, straight-backed and stone-faced.  She was followed moments later by Rodrick Angues and Harvey Hibbert, who withdrew with neither a look nor a word to the man whose heart they had so casually shattered, and that was the last Holmes and I ever saw of Sir Gideon’s cold-blooded friend and his even more cold-blooded children.

The party could not survive such a loss, and Sir Gideon bid us an awkward, tremulous good-night shortly thereafter.  The other guests, including myself, did not loiter, dispersing into the raw frigid night in a decidedly less than merry humour.  Holmes and I hailed a cab that offered only nominal shelter from winter’s biting chill.

“I fear that whatever gratitude I earned from saving the life of Sir Gideon’s son has been outbalanced,” said I, “and that his disinclination towards you has redoubled.”

Holmes lit a cigarette and made no reply.  I really had hoped the challenge and the exhilaration of the case would have superseded that afternoon’s dispute in his mind. Perhaps such had been true during the investigation, but now that it was all ended, enough space in his brain-attic was freed for him to remember that he was justly angry with me.  I took a breath and allowed myself one minute, no more, of private hysteria over the impending conversation.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” I said.

“Then we are in agreement.”

“I was wrong to dismiss you as I did.  Although we were introduced only months ago I like to think that we have come to know and to trust one another, and you had every right to expect better of me.  You are as always correct: one’s appetites are no reflection of intelligence, as my own actions this morning ably demonstrate.  I pray you will afford me the opportunity to mend whatever damage my thoughtlessness has inflicted upon our friendship.”

His face was turned toward the window and away from me, making it impossible for me to gauge his reaction.  The molokheyyah threatened to make an unpleasant and unwelcome reappearance, but then Holmes looked at me.  The shadows from the cab and the light from the streetlamps combined in his thin face to great and enigmatic effect, but the smile, though small, was unambiguous.  I smiled as well, and without a word all the tension that filled the cab dissolved.

“Where did you learn to be a parlour-maid?” I asked after a brief but comfortable silence.

“How does one learn to be or to do anything?  I practised,” Holmes replied.  It was unsatisfactory, so far as answers go, but I thought it best to not press the issue.  “Now it is my turn to pose a question.  It is one to which I have not been able to deduce a definitive answer, and I thought perhaps you would be willing to provide some insight into the matter?”

“I should be glad to assist you in any way I can, though I don’t see how I could solve any aspect of this case that has puzzled you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with the case.  I have already put the matter from my mind.  This difficulty relates to the quarrel which we have since happily resolved.  Why did it affect you so?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Your reaction to the knowledge that I hold that sort of intimacy in such low regard and am unlikely to ever change my opinion seemed rather more intense than the occasion warranted.  I simply wish to know why.”

For the second time that day he had rendered me speechless.  Everything seemed so clear that afternoon, but now it was as though a thick London fog had obscured my innermost thoughts.

“I cannot say,” I confessed at last.  “I suppose it was the novelty of the idea.  I have never before met a man who was so vehemently opposed to such activities, at least not one who felt comfortable enough to share his inclinations with me.”

Holmes regarded me with keen, steady eyes.

“I suppose I must believe you for now,” he said as he flicked his cigarette out of the window.

#my writing #sherlock holmes #this is old lol

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: All For One

Some of the Legends are headed to a Halloween party--and their costumes are cracking Zari up. 

This was touched off by a quick line in "Secret Santa"-where I mentioned Leonard, Mick, and Ray going drinking with Alexandre Dumas and accidentally inspiring the Three Musketeers. I'd still like to write that actual incident, but in the meantime, here's something for CaptainCanary Week, Day 5: Holidays.

Please note that there are slight spoilers for what we know of Maisie Richardson-Sellers' character in the next season. (That her name is Charlie, that she's a fugitive, that she's "opposite" Amaya in some ways, that the Legends are dealing with mythological creatures, etc.) I decided to play with the notion a bit. (Please, please, please, Legends writers!)

Thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta. I completely missed the potential that wound up being the final line--but she didn't! Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

Zari can’t stop laughing.

Her initial snort of laughter had turned into a chuckle, then a true laugh, then into the sort of guffaws she rapidly loses control of. She takes a step back, then another, until her back reaches the wall and then she slowly slides down it until she’s seated at the bottom. Still laughing.

Mick, who once, she thinks, would have annoyed by her amusement, grins at her, turning to show off his outfit with its blue tabard, the scabbard at his side, the tight pants, and the tall black boots. She nods in appreciation, grinning back as he actually doffs his hat (with its long white feather) to her, then laughs again as he plops it back on his head and winks.

“I love it,” she tells him. “Do you guys have a d’Artagnan?”

“No, the kid refused.” Mick eyes her. “Y’know, it’s not too late. Gideon could whip you up a costume, pretty sure Allen wouldn’t mind us bringing an extra to his party…”

But Zari puts her hands up hastily. “No, no. I’ll hold the fort. You just bring me some candy, OK, Porthos?”

“Even if we gotta steal it, New Girl. Right, Snart? Uh…Athos?”

The man in question, who’s leaning bonelessly against the holotable, shrugs in a noncommittal gesture. The Waverider’s newest crewmember’s been around a while now, but Zari still doesn’t feel like she knows him well. Sure, she’s heard the stories about self-sacrifice and past selves and doppelgangers, but the man himself is a trifle standoffish, although not in a rude way. All she really knows is that his return has made the longer-term members of the Legends—especially the captain--quite happy indeed, and that’s good enough for her.

“I dunno, I think I’d be better as Athos.” Ray is checking his own reflection in one of the viewscreens, adjusting his own hat and its wayward feather. “Why am I Aramis? I told you, right, that when we met Dumas, he said…”

Not only has Ray told this story several times, they’ve all stopped pointing out that the costumes are identical, and only Snart’s fondness for needling the inventor makes him nominally Aramis at all. Zari glances at Snart with a grin and notes him smirking back at her in a rare moment of connection.

“Because, I, Raymond…” And here, the former thief holds out his arm in one of those smooth Snart motions, right as Sara, gowned and cloaked, emerges from the corridor behind him. “…I have Milady de Winter.”

They’re uncanny, Zari reflects, watching Leonard and Sara as they eye each other appreciatively. And Jax is right…if they’re not lovers by now, she’ll eat Mick’s hat. Feather and all.

The captain rolls her eyes at the former thief, but she does smile as she raises her hood, settling it over her bound blond hair, and she does take his arm.

Ray’s still pouting. “You know the story from the book about Athos and Milady de Winter, right? I don’t think…”

They both ignore him.

“Sure you’re OK staying here?” Sara asks Zari. “Nate’s meeting us there, Jax and Stein are visiting their families, John is off doing warlock-related Halloween things, and Charlie…”

“…still won’t come out of her room. I know. It’s OK, Sara.”

Mick makes a disappointed noise. He’s oddly fascinated by the fugitive shapeshifter, who’d chosen to take something very similar to Amaya’s form after studying the Waverider’s records. Zari’s not sure if it’s that…or because the first shape they’d seen her in was that of a dragon. Both, maybe?

Still, they’re waiting on her. “I’m fine, Captain.” She waves a hand, still seated comfortably. “Go. Have fun. Bring me goodies.”

“What kind of candy you want, New Girl? Snickers? M&Ms?”

“You know, Mick…make sure you bring me a Three Musketeers.”

#ccweek2018 #captaincanary #legends of tomorrow

[singledarkshade]

Waverider Detective Agency

Part Five

Gideon let out a soft sigh as the therapist smoothed something that smelled like peaches onto her face as she lay in the treatment rooms just off the relaxation area near the back of spa. When she’d arrived, after changing into the robe and slippers, she’d set loose Ray’s little drone before heading to meet her therapist.

Now she couldn’t do anything else so was just lying back and enjoying her treatment.

The only concern she had at the moment was her new partner. Gideon knew she could have done this without any help, she’d done things like this plenty of time over the past year, but he had insisted.

She had considered that it might be best if they just worked separately splitting cases between them but Gideon also knew that Mary didn’t want that. The reason she’d put Rip in the agency was to help him and leaving him alone would not do that.

Gideon hoped he was able to pull off what she’d told him to do. She had no idea if he could lie or not.

 Rip walked into the spa and looked around. It was decorated in soothing muted colours, there was a faint hint of incense and calming music was played as all the employees wandered around wearing what looked like pyjamas and a pair of flip flops.

“Welcome to the Paradise Spa,” the young woman at the reception desk said gently, “Do you have an appointment?”

Rip shook his head, “I’m actually looking for some gifts. Next week is my sister and girlfriend’s birthday.”

“Two in the one week,” the woman smiled.

“On the same day,” Rip replied, hoping it would garner him sympathy, “At least it means I don’t forget one of them.”

The woman chuckled, moving back slightly Rip saw her name-tag which read ‘Fiona’, she said “So, what kind of gift are you looking for? We have gift-cards for treatments either a specific one or just an amount to put towards them. We also have a range of gift-boxes with our own skin care products that we use here in the spa.”

“I don’t think a gift card would be well received,” Rip said, knowing this to be true from experience, “So what gift sets would you recommend.”

Fiona smiled at him, “Well that depends on what the ladies in question like, as well as what skin types they are,” she laughed at his blank look, “Okay, let’s go with their personalities.”

This he was prepared for, Gideon would take the place of his sister and Kendra the place of a girlfriend if he needed to describe them. Gideon has passed him a picture of them from the previous Christmas and assured he knew them well enough to describe their personalities.

Rip smiled, “Well…”

  Gideon left the spa feeling quite relaxed after her treatment, smiling amused when she spotted Rip sitting on a bench nearby, a bag from the spa at his side.

“You bought the giftsets?” she asked amused.

Rip stood picking up the bag and shrugging, “I felt guilty considering how much work she put into finding them for me. You and Kendra can decide which one you want.”

“Why not send them to Mary?” Gideon asked as they started along the streets heading back to car so they could return to the office.

He shrugged, “Think of it as a thank you for putting up with me when you’re so used to working by yourself.”

Gideon smiled at him, “Thank you.”

Reaching the car Gideon slid in waiting for Rip to throw the bag in the back before getting in the passenger seat.

“Kendra has sent us all the information she found,” Gideon said as she drove, “I’ll download the drone once we get back to the office so we can see if it found anything.”

“You can go home,” Rip told her, “I can go through everything.”

Gideon glanced over at him and gave him a smile, “I actually like this part. Looking at clues and putting the pieces together. All we need is some food and we can get to work.”

“Okay,” Rip nodded softly, “What do you want to eat?”

She mused on this before shrugging, “Let’s see what John has to offer tonight before making any choices.”

“Is the food that good?” Rip asked.

Driving into the empty parking space near the office, Gideon nodded, “You’ll see.”

They climbed out the car and started towards John’s place, as they moved closer Rip frowned to see a long queue coming out the door and along the street.

“Oh, it’s Chinese food,” Gideon noted happily moving closer.

“You do know there is a Chinese takeout place less than a block from here with probably less of a queue,” Rip noted.

She smiled, “True but it won’t be as good. The chef John gets for these nights is amazing and worth the wait,” she stopped him saying anything else, “Plus John won’t let us wait in the queue.”

As predicted the moment they reached the queue, Hazel, one of the waitresses appeared and waved to Gideon, “John asked to see you in his office.”

Gideon turned and gave Rip a smug smile before following Hazel inside with him following on behind her.

Every table in the room was full, there were people waiting beside the bar with the line spilling out the door. Hazel disappeared the moment they were inside to get back to work while Gideon lead Rip to John’s office.

“I really don’t get this,” Rip noted, “He changes his menu every day, is it on a weekly cycle so everyone knows what’s being served tonight.”

Gideon shook her head, “No. I do know he uses social medial well and has managed to build a reputation for himself.”

The door opened and John slid in, leaning against the door with a small sigh, “It’s chaos out there tonight.”

Gideon chuckled, “You brought it on yourself, John. You know how popular this night is with your followers.”

“I know,” he sighed, “And this was the only night Max can make for the next few months. Anyway, what can I get you two to eat?”

“You’re letting us skip the queue?” Rip asked amused.

John shrugged, “Gideon is family so will always be first in line.”

“Can we just get the special taster meal for two to go?” Gideon asked, “That should be enough for both of us and you can get to try a bit of everything, Rip.”

John grinned, “No problem love.”

                                  *********************************************

  Gideon sat cross-legged on the couch in the reception area finishing off her rice as Rip sat on the floor against the couch his long legs stretched out in front of him eating the last of the salt and chilli chicken.

“Okay,” Rip moaned, “You were right. That was incredible food.”

Gideon smiled at him, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“It depends on what you’re asking,” Rip noted darkly.

Setting the empty container down Gideon turned to look at him properly, “Why don’t you like being called Michael?”

Rip shrugged, “Because it was my father’s name and I want nothing to do with the man.”

“Then why not change your surname too?” Gideon asked.

“Because Hunter is my mother’s surname,” Rip replied, laughing at the bemused look Gideon was giving him, “Mary adopted me when I was ten.”

Gideon nodded, a small spike of jealousy going through her for a second, “I didn’t know.”

He shrugged, “I tend not to wear a sign around my neck.”

“I shouldn’t have pried,” Gideon said, frowning when he chuckled, “What?”

“Then you wouldn’t be you,” he replied, giving a sigh Rip shrugged, “Alright, I have invaded your life so you are owed something and my story is a small price to pay.”

Gideon sat quietly waiting for him to continue speaking not wanting to say anything and make him change his mind because she’d wanted to know this since the day they met.

“My mother, biological mother is someone I know only a little about but I know she was chased by my father,” Rip sneered slightly, “Wooed until she fell for him and I was the result. But the man didn’t want a kid, even though she was convinced until I was about three months old that he did. She named me Michael after him.”

“What happened to your mother?”

Rip took a drink of the beer he had sitting on the table, “She died when I was six months in an accident. I lived with my aunt until I was four when she died too.”

He took another quick drink before continuing, “I was put in care after that. Mother…Mary had lost her own family so would come and help out at the home every so often,” he stopped lost in his memories for the moment, “I was eight and angry because every time I thought I might get a family someone else was chosen.”

“I remember that feeling,” Gideon said softly.

Rip nodded, storing that small piece of information, “Anyway on one of her visits she found me sitting alone so sat to talk to me. I didn’t say much but I remember how sad I was when she left. I was stunned when she came back the next day with a book she’d been telling me about. Then she came back the next day and the next and the next,” a small smile touched his lips, “Two weeks later she asked me if I wanted to come live with her. I was ecstatic.”

Gideon sighed softly, “I can only imagine.”

“Anyway, two years later she was going through the paperwork to finalise my adoption but discovered my father hadn’t given up his parental rights,” Rip sneered slightly, “It is the only time I remember meeting him and I never wanted to ever again. He walked into the house like he owned it, looked at me like I was a piece of dirt before turned to the amazing woman who had taken me in and told her they should get this over with. He had dinner plans.”

Gideon frowned, “He sounds hideous.”

“He was,” Rip agreed, “But his wife came with him and she sat with me. We talked briefly about school before she handed me a piece of paper saying it was a present for me but I was to give it to mother once they were finished. Then they were gone and I knew that the moment I could I was changing my name.”

Silence fell between them when Rip finished his story.

Gideon frowned in thought, “What was on the paper?”

A small smile touched Rip’s lips, “It was a bank account that she had put together. I used the money for University.”

“I have one more question,” Gideon said.

Rip rolled his eyes, “Of course you do.”

“Where did the name Rip come from?”

“My wife,” he said softly, “We met in school and when I told her about my plan to change my name as soon as I could, Miranda made a list. She liked the sound of Rip Hunter. Said it sounded like someone who had adventures so started calling me Rip and it stuck.”

  After tidying up the remains of their meal, then putting away all their work Rip and Gideon headed back to their apartment building. They didn’t talk, both caught up in their own thought barely noticing the man in the dark hoodie who pushed past them into the street when they opened the main door. They walked up the stairs in silence, neither even thought to take the elevator and reached Gideon’s floor.

“You did well today,” Gideon said softly, “Although our budget won’t run to buying something every time we need to survey a shop.”

Rip shrugged, “I’ll do my best. Although thinking about it you got a facial out of the budget.”

“Get some sleep and we’ll pick up on our leads tomorrow morning,” Gideon told him, “Goodnight.”

Rip started up the stairs, “Goodnight.”

Heading along the corridor to her apartment Gideon slowed, her door appeared to be sitting slightly open, but she knew that she had locked it when she left. Deliberately she began to move closer, pulling out the taser she carried for protection. Reaching the door she scanned it but it didn’t look like anyone had forced it open or picked the lock. Swallowing worriedly she armed the taser before gently pushing the door open. On the wall directly across from the door was a photograph of her, it was attached to the wall by a knife through her chest with a message below in red – ‘Mine’

Horrified Gideon let out a scream.

Part Six

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #timeship #alternate universe

[henryandalex]

***I can’t believe there are still 4(!) months left until the show and more importantly until Malec is back. Honestly, who tf thought that bringing the show back in April was a good idea? I just wanna talk. Especially when seeing all these spoilers and teasers. This is really not helping here!

At least we still have Malec fanfics left to keep us entertained. And with Christmas and the holidays right around the corner, there is time to get invested in some new and amazing fics, am I right? So snuggle yourself into a fluffy and warm blanket, drink some hot chocolate and tea and see these two idiots fall in love over and over and over again.

As always, I hope you’re gonna enjoy this fic rec. The 6th one already, can you believe? I am still so overwhelmed when looking at the notes from the last one. You guys are amazing! Thank you so so much. But now, have fun reading!***

Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4

Volume 5

BETWEEN THE LINES by @msalexiscriss  [ E | AU | 240k | complete ]

Special Agent Alec Lightwood’s been chasing the renowned thief and conman extraordinaire Magnus Bane for five years now. When a criminal from the past, Valentine Morgenstern, threatens their city and both their reputations, the duo will have to do the unimaginable and team up to restore the peace in the big old city. Between secrets, betrayals, heartbreaking truths, and sick games, Alec and Magnus will have to learn to play between the lines of good and evil in order to carry out their mission and make it out alive. Will they succeed?

DEEPER THAN THE TRUTH by @insiemes [ M | AU | 150k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood is a world-famous author, though the world knows him only under his pseud: Gideon Archer. Magnus Bane is a fashion designer who just happens to be a big fan of Gideon's work.

THE WAY IT SHOULD BE by @m-aleciseverything [ T | AU | 53.6k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood had his life figured out: a job that he was passionate about, a beautiful boyfriend who loved him, and friends and family surrounding him.

Everything was perfect or should have been perfect, if it weren't for the nagging feeling that something in his life was missing. And how was he supposed to go on with his life after he met Magnus Bane and suddenly that feeling was gone?

ADDICTED TO YOU by @imawriteriwrite [ E | AU | 78.7k | complete | Fuck Buddies AU #1 ]

Magnus Bane's the head of his own company. Alec Lightwood is in his last year of law school. They’ve never met but have one thing in common: neither does relationships. Just one night stands. That is until they find themselves matched on a hookup app and suddenly one night is not enough.

Also known as the one where Magnus and Alec meet and think they can have no strings attached sex and not develop feelings.

STAY HERE FOREVER by @imawriteriwrite [ M | AU | 11.9k | complete | Fuck Buddies AU #2 ]

A year before, they didn't even know each other. Then there was this hookup app, and months where they thought they could be "just fuck buddies". Things went downhill. Things went uphill.

Now, it's been months since Magnus Bane (head of Bane Co.) and Alec Lightwood (kind of officially a lawyer) finally figured their shit out and started a healthy relationship. Now it's Valentine's Day and their relationship is put in danger as they compete to out romance each other.

THE BRIGHTEST SHADE OF THE SUN by @theonetruenorth [ E | 3k | complete ]

Magnus leaned over him and brushed his lips down Alec’s spine, a feather-light caress that told Alec much more than words ever could. He breathed against the warm skin, pressing kisses over a couple chosen spots; a beauty mark, an old scar, the looping end of a black rune. Alec laughed when he hit a particularly ticklish spot over his ribs. Magnus ran his hand over the back of Alec’s thigh and hummed approvingly when Alec spread his legs a little more, exposing himself.

IT’S A YES FROM ME by @ketzwrites [ G | AU | 23.2k | complete ]

Reclusive singer Alec Lightwood has been taking some time away from the spotlight for a few years now. He has lost his inspiration, his reason to keep making music.

That is, until his manager, Luke Garroway, asks him to enter the panel of the ridiculous singing competition The Angel's Voice. Alec only says yes because that means keeping an eye on Clary and Simon. He hates those fixed, degrading TV shows with a burning passion. Hopefully, Alec figures, he’ll get some inspiration back watching new comers try their luck on TV. Some of them are bound to be good.

It isn’t until Magnus Bane walks on stage, however, that Alec realizes just how right he is.

INVICTUS by @lecrit [ M | AU | 30.2k | complete ]

“You should get a tattoo.”

Alec firmly believed in coincidences, in the serendipity that could bring the hazards of life, but even he could admit that sometimes, things seemed to happen for a reason. He was too much of a pragmatic person to truly believe in fate and destiny.

So even when Jace blurted those words at him as he stumbled into his shop, they remained abstract concepts to him, no matter how it nudged at the back of his mind.

ROSES ARE RED, SO IS YOUR FACE by @madzieloss [ not rated | 5k | complete ]

Before Alec could even wonder what that meant, much less ask, Cat re-entered the room and Alec became overtly aware of how red he was as her eyes landed on his face.

And she cooed at him. If anything, he turned even redder. Was she really… cooing at him?

Cat laughed. “Well, I must say. I’ve been around for a while, and I’ve never seen a shadowhunter blush before. How adorable.”

(or, five times cat makes alec blush, and one time he gets her back)

CALL YOU HOME by Airuna [ T | AU | 62.2k | complete ]

Alec Lightwood was pretty content with his life, he had a successful job leading a law firm with one of his best friends, a great relationship with his siblings and a perfectly acceptable apartment. He really wasn’t looking for anything more but when he finds a little girl waiting all alone in a coffee shop his life will change irremediably and maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all.

Or,

The one in which Alec makes up with his mother, gets a boyfriend and adopts a little girl. Just not necessarily in that order.

ONLY FOREVER by @magnusragnor [ G | AU | 4.7k | complete ]

a love story told through texts, e-mails, and love letters.

LIONHEART by bumblebeesknees [ E | 8.4k | complete ]

Magnus’ bed hasn’t felt like his own without Alec in it. His body hasn’t felt the same without Alec’s warmth pressed up against it. From the second Alec takes his hand, Magnus doesn’t waste any time fixing either of those things. [Coda to 2x20]

THE OPTIMIST IN ME by nygmasneck [ G | 1.4k | complete ]

Days off are rare for them, and Alec intends to make this one last a lifetime.

HOME IS WHEREVER I’M WITH YOU by @softbimagnus [ G | 954 | complete ]

Magnus dropped his hands to Alec’s chest in a gesture so familiar it made Alec ache with how much he’d missed this.

“Ready to go home?”

Alec blinked in surprise.

Home.

Alec wasn’t sure he’d ever get to think of the loft as home again, not since the last time he rolled out of Magnus’ bed before the situation with the soul sword came to light.

BLUE CIRCLE by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 35.9k | complete | Blue Steel Series #8 ]

When Sophia calls Magnus in a panic, telling him that someone has murdered her best friend, Magnus does the only thing he can, he sends Alec. Alec discovers during the course of the investigation, that there is more going on with teenagers than he thought. During the investigation, Alec and Jace find that there is a circle of teenagers who, in order to join the group, have to prove their loyalty by rape and murder. Who better to practice on than the girls in their social group?

BLUE CLAN by Hobbit69 [ E | AU | 3.3k | complete | Blue Steel Series #9 ]

After adopting Madzie, Detective Alexander Lightwood-Bane and his husband, Magnus, decide to go on vacation to help them bond with their new daughter.

A LIFE GIVEN WILLINGLY by @one100suns [ E | AU | 112.1k | complete ]

There isn’t much Alec Lightwood wouldn’t do for his family. But perhaps he should have said no just this once. Now he’s being targeted by one Sebastian Verlac and forced to seek help from an unlikely source.

Or in which Magnus is a gangster and Alec is in way over his head.

YOUR FULL ATTENTION by @ladymatt [ M | 1.8k | complete ]

Waking up in the arms of his boyfriend, Magnus Bane, was always something to savour for Alec Lightwood.....when he had the time. Unfortunately for them both, on this occasion a Clave meeting prevented a proper 'Good Morning!' With an appointment arranged for the 'Head' of the Institute to shake hands with The High Warlock Of Brooklyn later that day, he should have known Magnus would still make him pay for choosing the Clave over his cock!

IN ANOTHER LIFE by @klynnwordsadhoc [ T | AU | 3.4k | complete | It Started With A Wedding #1 ]

Alec is an ex-Marine Captain, recently returned from overseas to take over his parent's company, struggling to adjust to life as a civilian once more. Magnus is a fashion designer who has many better things he could do with his weekend. They both attend the same wedding, and they're both very pleased about it later.

ODD HOURS by @klynnwordsadhoc [ E | AU | 3.9k | complete | It Started With A Wedding #2 ]

Magnus sighs, “Drill sergeant,” he complains. Alec laughs. “That’s Army. It’s drill instructor in the Marines and I never was one.” “You should have been.”

Magnus has a late night at work and Alec worries.

GOOD OUR WHOLE LIVES by @beatperfume [ E | AU | 34.8k | complete ]

They say that prostitution is the world’s oldest profession, and it’s just as true for the Downworld as the mundane one.

But this is the first time Magnus has ever heard of a nephilim hustling his crowd.

THE WAY I FEEL FOR YOU by @theonetruenorth [ E | 7.3k | complete ]

The drawer was filled with sex toys.

Neatly laid out on a cushy bed of silk lining the drawer. There were a lot of them. Alec immediately felt a little lost as he surveyed the variety of colors and shapes and sizes. There were some that were anatomically-correct but some toys looked weird as heck, and Alec really wasn’t sure how one could use them. There were small ones and big ones and holy shit, how did you even fit some of them into your body?!

A pair of arms wrapped around his middle from behind, startling him so much he actually yelped and flailed a little, luckily managing to avoid hitting Magnus in the face with his elbow.

“See anything you like?”

YOUR WORD IS BUTTHEAD by @lecrit [ G | AU | 3.4k | complete ]

Alec’s kid has a bad tendency of being overly competitive. Which is fine, really, because the apple never falls far from the tree, and Alec is definitely to blame for that.

Or the one where Alec's and Magnus' sons compete against each other in a spelling bee contest and they're both overly competitive about who is the best.

MAKE A WISH, ALEXANDER by @dont-stop-believin-in-klaine [ M | 1.1k | complete ]

One does not simply not celebrate their birthday while they're dating Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn himself. That just won't do.

MORNING’S COME, YOU WATCH THE RED SUNRISE by @lightwoodlesbians [ G | AU | 6k | complete | Malec Single Parents AU’s #2 ]

or the 'your house is being renovated so you're staying at mine and we aren't even dating but every time you get up to the baby crying and sigh, 'i'll go', i feel like we might as well be married' au

BUT SOME OF US ARE LOOKING AT THE STARS by @lecrit [ G | AU | 4.3k | complete ]

There aren’t many things that Alec loves as much as he loves the stars. Most nights, he just likes to sit on his balcony and watch the eerie darkness drape over the sky and the silver glow of the moon, surrounded by the stars shaping constellations he knows by heart.

This is a special night for him and his son. The only night in the year Alec lets Max stay up after midnight, so they can watch Perseids meteor shower together on the rooftop of their building.

Alec doesn't expect to find out they weren't the only ones to get the idea.

THE RIGHT PRICE by Marie_Tomas [ T | AU | 7k | complete ]

Magnus Bane has worked as a lawyer for several years, taking his job very seriously. The Lightwoods have always been one of his major professional rivals in the city, but this hasn't stopped Magnus from falling in lust, and a little in love, with one particular member of the Lightwood family, Alec Lightwood.

When shy, nervous Alec asks Magnus for his help with representing one of the Lightwoods' clients, Magnus makes a joking, flirty comment about what he would expect from Alec in return for a victory in the courtroom. A major misunderstanding happens as a result.

BUCKLE UP by @ketzwrites [ E | AU | 14.8k | complete ]

Alec has been Magnus Bane’s private driver for three years now. They have the perfect relationship; good-hearted, mutually supportive of each other, and frankly amicable. Maybe too amicable, in fact, considering they have been sleeping together for the better part of those three years.

However, when Alec receives a surprise offer for another job, that perfect relationship crumbles. It turns out that, without the anchors of a professional bond between them, Alec and Magnus are left to face something they had refused to think of before: their feelings.

SOME KIND OF WONDERFUL by @magnusragnor [ T | AU | 13.8k | complete ]

“I’m a grown ass man who never learned to swim. I’d laugh at myself if it wasn’t so embarrassing,” Alec replied, shrugging.

“You’re a grown ass man who never learned to swim and has sucked up his pride to try and do something about it. That’s admirable, nothing to be laughed at,” Magnus retorted, finally meeting Alec’s eyes and smiling warmly. “Shall we?” he asked, jerking his head towards the pool.

(aka Magnus is a lifeguard at a local pool and Alec doesn't know how to swim)

WHAT’S IT GONNA BE? by @lemonoclefox [ M | AU | 49.3k | complete | What’s It Gonna Be Series #1 ]

Fairchild’s bakery is a second home to not just Magnus, but also to most of his found-family. As a pastry chef, he works long hours and takes great pride in his craft – so much so that he has little time or attention for much else. Least of all romance. After plenty of experience with heartbreak and disappointment, he has come to expect the worst from anything in that department, and the arrival of the wealthy Lightwoods in the neighborhood isn’t about to change that. Especially not when their eldest son might just be the most insufferable prick Magnus has ever met, no matter what anyone else has to say about the guy.

UP IN THE SKY by @ketzwrites [ T | AU | 23.8k | complete ]

When General Imogen of the Shadowhunter Forces is found dead, the country of Alicante is shocked. As he campaigns to come back to the office, Former President Valentine Morgenstern points out the Seelies as responsible for her assassination, calling for a war in response.

Senator Magnus Bane knows war means death to the hundreds of Downworlders who live in the country. He needs to stop Valentine from winning the election, by any means necessary.

However, the Downworlders votes won’t be enough. Magnus needs the Nephilim to vote for him as well. If only he can convince one of the national heroes of the Light Squad to back him up, Magnus just might have a chance to make history and become the first Downworlder President of Alicante.

MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO ME by @imawriteriwrite [ G | AU | 59.4k | complete ]

Magnus Bane had a plan, a perfect Christmas Eve just like always. Hang out with his friends, bask in the Christmas Spirit. Then everything went wrong.

Now he's stuck reliving the same day again and again and again. The bright side? Maybe Alec Lightwood isn't as terrible as Magnus always thought.

#malec #malec fic #malec fic rec #shadowhunters #malec fanfic #fic rec #fanfic #otp: look what i have waiting for me #i hope you enjoy these again #let me know if you liked this and if it was/is useful #also these are all the ones i have left to rec #now i need to find good ones again to rec #until then enjoy these and have fun reading!!!

[ks-caster]

Let’s Talk About Murphy and Religious Symbols

Okay, so this post originated as a response to this post by @osleyakomwonkru​ - and then I realized I totally changed the subject from Octavia to Murphy and you might not want to have Discourse in your replies, so here it is on its own. 

To summarize: In season 7, episode 6 of The 100, John Murphy expresses to Indra that he thinks she was the real leader of Wonkru while Octavia was off “painting her face with blood.” This is rage-inducing because A) He wasn’t there and doesn’t get an opinion, B) it’s factually incorrect - for better or worse my girl Octavia was making all of the major decisions from the Dark Year onward with little to no help, and C) it seems like they just stuck that in there as a lazy writers’ handwave to get Indra to step up and take charge (rather than taking 10 minutes to think about continuity with their own canon when they were writing his lines). 

Now, I fully agree with this post that it’s probably just shitty writing - there’s been a lot of that going around this show especially in the later seasons lol. But. 

BUT.

What if it’s not?

Because now that I think about it - Murphy has a history (moreso than any other character I think) of not understanding or respecting cultural or religious symbolism. In fact, one of the reasons I like him so much is that he’s my bro when it comes to:

[Image ID: Samuel L. Jackson in the well-memed scene from Snakes on a Plane. The text has been altered to say “I have had it with these motherfucking religions on these motherfucking planets.” End ID.]

Adding a cut to save a scroll finger because this got long lol

From here on out, I’m going to be very critical of religion as a concept; in real life I think religion is pretty cool and I happen to have one of those myself, but I also recognize that religious trauma is a very real thing. 

The more I go through Murphy’s scenes in the show, the more I think that’s exactly where they’re going with him.

What do we know about John Murphy and authority, especially when it’s derived from religious beliefs?

Season 1: 

He did not grow up with theocracy as a normalized concept. The Ark had one visible religion, and it does not appear to have any significant political clout or implications. 

The Ark’s laws and power structure were based on scientific knowledge and the needs of the many. 

Side note: There’s been speculation among fandom that Murphy was locked up when he was quite young. I agree with this spec. 

However whether or not it’s true, we know that Murphy does not like authority in general, because the draconian laws on the Ark killed both of his parents.

Out of 7 council members shown on screen, we know the day jobs of 2 of them: Doctor (Abby) and former engineer (Jaha). Leaders are chosen based on necessary skills.

Season 1 occurred over a span of 29 days (source). For Murphy, 11 of those days were spent supporting Bellamy as leader - while he promoted a certain level of anarchy for the first 7, the next 4 were spent building defenses. 

Murphy has a certain amount of clout as Bellamy’s assistant, and uses it to be an asshole, like that time he peed on that kid who asked for water.

After this week and a half, Murphy is lynched by an angry mob for a murder he didn’t commit. 

On the evening of day 12 he is banished - on day 23 he returns, having been captured and tortured by the grounders (specifically Indra I think) for presumably most of that time.

To sum up: Murphy’s experience with authority in his early life is that it’s basically just something to abuse people with (his parents, him, what he did to others etc.)

Season 2:

Murphy goes on a long hike with Jaha, and has his first experience with religious zealotry. Jaha will sacrifice people for his beliefs without a second thought, and in the end all they find is a field of old solar panels. 

Murphy is then sealed in the lighthouse bunker for 86 days. (FYI, 15 days of solitary is considered torture. Source.)

Murphy’s first experience of religion is that it’s a ridiculous belief, based on almost no facts, that gives people the freedom to behave irrationally and harm others, and that not only does it turn out to lead to exactly jack shit at the end, that was enforced for him by having almost 6 times the length of time in solitary to be considered torture for him to think about what a no good very bad idea it was for him to come out here in the first place.

Prior to his journey with Jaha, Murphy’s experience of power is that it’s something people control you with using the threat of force. But now he’s been exposed to religion, which controls people through their own beliefs. When someone is trying to use force on you, you can just grab a gun and shoot them. But how do you fight against a belief?

Season 3:

Murphy is released from the lighthouse bunker after seriously considering suicide - so his mental state is not awesome right now.

Jaha is still just as into the religion concept as he was before Murphy got to spend over two months in solitary

Gideon (who is already chipped when we meet him unless I misunderstand the episode) is frankly a creepy mf. He tries to strangle Emori, who has to kill him because “there is no pain in the city of light,” meaning that nonlethal force will not save Emori’s life.

Emori’s brother Otan goes for a walk with Jaha and comes back chipped. He takes Emori hostage, and Murphy takes ALIE’s case hostage in response. Through this exchange, Otan is valuing a plastic backpack higher than his sister’s life, while Jaha is still trying to convert Murphy.

Murphy gets captured, and the grounders find the CoL chip and say it’s a sacred symbol. 

He’s taken to be tortured by Titus, who as Murphy describes it, prays to garbage.

Upon examining Titus’s beliefs, Murphy realizes that they’re tied to the thirteenth station. Once again, a religion that allows people to kill other people is based on something old and ridiculous - praying to garbage indeed.

After Lexa’s death, a bunch of literal children are supposed to fight to the death for her throne. Murphy was all set to watch some guys fight to the death over a dumb computer chip - but he looked awfully sick when he realized they were all children.

Then instead of that (which is already horrific) Ontari turns up and murders them all in their sleep - Murphy gets to see all the little chopped off heads. All of this is done in the name of the grounder religion.

In the wake of this nastiness, Murphy becomes a fake fleimkepa to save his life (Because Titus threw him to the wolves to buy time for Clarke). Ontari chains him up at night and at least once coerces him into having sex with her. 

Ironically, at least everything Ontari did was with regular old threat of force, since her power as Heda was limited - being a fake

Emori - the only person Murphy explicitly loves and trusts at this point in the show -  takes the chip, in an attempt to save him, which causes her to betray him. 

Once everything’s said and done, and he’s able to remove his hand from his dead rapist’s chest cavity, Emori has been released from the AI and has returned to him. The oppressive religion has been defeated.

The moment when Murphy gets Emori back has to be the most intense and genuine joy and relief he’s expressed on screen to date.

Season 4:

The world is ending, and the supposed adults are all completely incapable of getting along long enough to save everyone without the crutch of religion.

Roan can rule the clans (sort of) but only with the claim that he’s holding the throne for the next Heda

Nightblood could have saved everyone, but it’s genetically rare thanks to the religious tradition of rounding up each generation and culling them down to one survivor.

Clarke can’t even take over as Heda to keep everyone from killing each other because her completely usable nightblood is “fake.”

They find a bunker - which was put together by religious fanatics who had fake bunkers for the lesser believers - which is super fucked up.

Murphy and Emori were safe inside the bunker until Octavia won the conclave. 

Because she was the survivor of what’s effectively a Grounder religious ceremony, Octavia gains the power to decide that Skykru only gets 100 beds, kicking out those who were already in the bunker, safe in the beds they’d chosen. 

This may likely mean death for Murphy, and DEFINITELY means death for Emori. It’s only been 44 days since he got her back, and he’s either going to die with her, or if he’s lucky, he’ll just lose her again permanently.

Thanks to Raven, Bellamy and the rest of spacekru, they both survive. In the interim between seasons 4 and 5, Murphy lived six years with (probably) no religious influences other than maybe coming across a chapel or reference to the Ark’s cute little worship-the-bonsai-tree religion. 

Now seasons 1-4 take place over 200 days. For reference, today (June 26th, 2020) is only the 177th day into 2020. Now 2020 has been a hell of a ride, and the events of The 100 are significantly more drastic. So lots of character development, relationship changes etc. makes complete sense. 

But imagine you lived through 2020 until mid-July (ugh, I wonder what next month’s apocalypse bingo will be...) and then you spent the next 6 years fairly insulated from what happened, in a safe place with little conflict other than what you manufactured (remember, this is Murphy we’re talking about lol).

And then, come July-ish 2026, you go back home for the first time (after a little torture session with a creepy convict dude) and someone mentions biological warfare (for example) as a reasonable idea. 

Wouldn’t you be a little bit more sensitive about it than someone who didn’t live through the Coronavirus?

Season 5:

As we know from the flashbacks, Gaia reconstructed the Grounder religion into the Wonkru Cult, with Octavia as Blodreina. “The blood of our enemies is her armor.”

In other words, “Octavia painting her face with blood” was a religious symbol - and so Murphy, who has massive and obvious trauma with regards to religion, makes some mean jokes, but otherwise does not engage mentally or emotionally, or make any attempt to understand whatever the hell was/is going on down there. 

He simply does not vibe with it.

While Murphy has a rough go if it in season 5 with Eligius, the religious/culty stuff mostly leaves him alone in season 5 because he spends the majority of his time in Shallow Valley instead of with Team WTF Is Going On With Octavia. His knowledge of the Wonkru cult would be largely secondhand.

Additionally, the little 12-year-old girl who loved funny stories about him now has a killer AI stuck in her brain. I don’t remember getting to see him react to this, but by the end of the season he can’t have not known about it, at least.

The parts of season 5 where Murphy is not on the ring take place over a span of 18 days. They board the cryoship, go to sleep, and when they wake up, they’re orbiting Sanctum.

Season 6:

Hey look, the planet of the bodysnatcher religion! In other words, Murphy Trauma Central.

Murphy dies, and has a horrible hallucination of what he thinks is hell (this is never explained, actually, which irks me. I was waiting for that plotline to be resolved.)

During Murphy’s childhood, he got to watch his mother slowly turn into someone else (alcoholism, grief, then suicide). And during season 3, he gets to watch a bunch of people (particularly Emori) turn into not themselves. Also during season 3, Murphy was the chosen pawn of a powerful young woman who used him to fool people so she could have power, in conjunction with a religious tradition. 

While he may not have had a close relationship with Clarke, Josephine must have been like a nightmare to him - bodysnatcher lady who has picked him as her chosen pawn to help her fool people in conjunction with a religious tradition.

Between all of Murphy’s trauma regarding religion and his newly refurbished fear of dying, he has to make a choice whether to get in good with this religion and save his and Emori’s lives, or probably die (again) or get bodysnatched himself for all he knows. 

Frankly, that’s not a choice. Not for him, not then. He signs himself up for the creepy religion. He hopes to save Bellamy et al along the way.

Then Abby gets bodysnatched and dies. Honestly I don’t remember why he has a close relationship with Abby, but he does. It’s the last straw - he walks away from his immortality into almost certain death, but then, since Clarke and Madi defeat the Primes, and he and team sanctum defeat the adjustment protocol, he lives on* for season 7.

*Legally named Daniel Prime.

And now we’ve arrived at season 7.

Murphy has never wanted anything to do with (any) religion, and he wants even less to do with the bodysnatching creepy religion that killed Abby. Not to mention, they want him to pretend to be Emori’s brother in public. It’s a funny plot point as a watcher, but from his perspective? Dude, his relationship with her is the best thing that’s ever happened to this guy. Invalidating that is salt in an already massive wound.

So Murphy is a fake deity, a fake brother, and for the first time in his life, he’s handed a whole bunch of religious-based political power and expected to just deal with that. Surrounded by different, equally violent factions who all hate each other (and some of which want him dead) he is supposed to pretend to be in charge - but actually just do whatever Clarke et al tells him to do.

Murphy started having a very specific nightmare at the beginning of season 6 and he hasn’t woken up yet.

7x06. Nakara. I’ll admit, I drank before watching it - a thing I generally do if I suspect from the trailer that I’ll need to care about Clarke for more than 3 minutes of screentime. I’m a happy drunk, so I enjoyed the episode. But that conversation with Murphy and Indra threw me - first as you’ll see in my liveblog because since when the fuck is Indra not a leader? She was the leader of Trikru from Anya’s death until Trikru was dissolved to become part of Wonkru. WTF.

Second, him saying that clearly Indra was really in charge while Octavia was painting her face with blood.

Now, I dismissed that line on my initial watch, because it was obviously factually incorrect, and how would Murphy know anyway? But now that I think about it, I think it was desperate, wishful thinking on Murphy’s part. By now, he has to want so badly for one grown-up - any grown-up - with leadership experience and skills, to take charge, knock some sense into people, and straighten out the shit he’s fallen into. Again.

Wonkru won’t do jack shit without a religious motivation, and thanks to that, they almost blew up in a(nother) nuclear explosion, and he had to be party to the incidental murder of a guy that he honestly thought was kinda’ cool - and now cool guy’s wife will probably try to murder him thanks to the association. Again.

Murphy is desperate for some kind of normal leadership, and historically (no matter what bullshit they made her say in that episode) Indra has been a capable and sensible leader. Maybe a little violent for Murphy’s tastes, but at this point, he’ll take her. And in his eyes**, Octavia’s “cult leader phase” was frightening, ineffective and easily overridden - while Indra has always been leading people when Murphy has known her. 

**Remember, Murphy’s experience of Octavia as Blodreina was two weeks from him landing on Earth to her abdicating and bending the knee to Madi - and he didn’t get to see much of it firsthand.

Was Indra running things while Octavia was off painting her face with blood? No. Should she have been? Probably. But this is a show about teenagers so they wind up in leadership positions for plot reasons, so whatever. That’s a different meta. But as far as Murphy’s concerned, he needs it to be the truth like he needs Indra to take charge in Sanctum and get him off the altar (in more ways than one). 

I don’t like it - but I understand it. 

#The 100 #the 100 season 7 spoilers #the 100 7x06 #the 100 meta #john murphy #religion tw #not like real ones - the ones on the show #although what I describe Murphy going through is something that some irl friends of mine have gone through in their own way too #discussion of religious trauma #this got deeper than I intended #suicide mention #rape tw #covid 19 mention #alcoholism mention #this thing wound up being a great big pile of tws #actually though that's just the show isn't it lol

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Amos you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Gideon Prewett!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

First of all, I have to address that there’s a wonderful irony in accepting someone with the same name as my character in the rp. But honestly, your app was a delight to read -- the depth of exploration in your personification of Gideon absolutely beautiful. You left us with such a clear picture of the character, both in his backstory and in the potential future effects of the war, all while bringing through Gideon’s humor as well. We’re so thrilled to welcome you into the rp and can’t wait to see you explore all of the dimensions to Gideon that you presented in your app! *your FC change to Eddie Redmayne has been accepted!

application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Amos, 20, he/him, GMT

ACTIVITY

I won’t lie, I can get extremely busy, I am currently training at drama school in technical theatre, and some weeks it is manic, that being said, I have missed writing so much, and I have missed being part of an rp group even more, I am committed to making it part of my daily routine again. My uni work should calm down for the next couple of months and I really want to write as much as I can in that spare time. 5/10

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I searched for HP RP in tumblr and your ad was one of the most recent posts, I had a click around your blog and really liked the look of you!

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I am a Neville Longbottom through and through. I could be painfully awkward,self conscious, under confident, clumsy, making goofy mistakes, but in the last couple of years I think I’ve really come a long way. I’ve found my voice, and my confidence, I am happy with who I am as a person, and am no longer striving to be someone I’m not, I have recently decided to stop being so embarrassed all the effing time and just accept that sometimes I do silly things and it’s better just to laugh about it than worry over it for the next week. It has honestly enhanced my life. I’m still waiting on the magic physical transformation into a greek God though.

ANYTHING ELSE?

If there is anything in my app that doesn’t fit with your current Fabian’s headcanons and such, then I will be most happy to adapt if I got in and had a chance to speak with them!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Gideon Prewett

FACE CLAIM

I would be happy to keep Ryan Gosling, although in Fabian’s bio it says the twins look exactly the same, so I would also be quite happy to take on Eddie Redmayne. I would quite like them to be identical, unless of course Beth would prefer them to be unidentical.

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I have been in love with the Prewett twins for a good couple of years now. I wrote Fabian in another rp for a long time and got very attached to him, although I have played both Fabian and Gideon at various different points. When I first started I thought every rps interpretation of the twins would be very different because there is so little on them in the books, but it turns out everyone has very similar ideas. I love that, I love that their character shines through those small details and through the legacy of their family in the books and through the reputation of the Order and through what we imagine the first wizarding war must have been like.

I love that they are essentially broken people trying so hard to make everyone else around them safe and happy, and I love that they are the kind of people who rebel against growing up. I do think it’s very important to see them as individuals, but I think their relationship with each other is one of their most essential qualities. I think it is what makes them unique characters to write. Even if you were writing other twins, I don’t think you’d have the same kind of experience. I think it’s that relationship that keeps drawing me back to them. Their personalities and their backstories, occupation, hair colour whatever, can change from rp to rp, and I love exploring each slightly new character, but most of all I love finding out how they interact with their twin, and what their priorities are during the war, and what lengths they are willing to go for their family.

I think my interpretation of Gid in this rp, is someone who is not necessarily hiding their negative emotions by putting on a brave face and cracking jokes, but instead, he is separating the good from the bad. He doesn’t mind when people see he’s having a bad day, or if people can tell he’s angry, or stressed, he won’t do much to hide it whilst the situation is still having that negative affect on him. But as soon as he gets to the party or the pub, or he’s having a laugh with a friend, he lets go of whatever is bothering him and enjoys the moment. And think it is people who generally make him happiest, like, he can find enjoyment in food and sunsets and such, but it’s interacting with people that really brightens his mood.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

No Preferred ships as yet. Bisexual but with a higher preference for men that he’s not quite willing to admit yet. Male, he/him.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

Gideon works in the Department of Magical Transportation. It’s not his dream job, or something he’s particularly enthused about, but it keeps him busy and it pays the rent. He got a job in a low level position a couple of years after graduating Hogwarts, thinking it would simply be a filler until he found what he was really supposed to be doing. However a summer temp job turned into 7 years of small talk, paperwork and rank climbing. The truth is he never really figured out what he wanted to do, apart from boyhood dreams of being a quidditch player, he never found a career that grabbed his entire attention. Now with the war, he has higher priorities than finding his true calling. It is a stable job and it gives him a good position in the Ministry, which is helpful for Order work. Despite what all this may point too, Gideon is a very intelligent individual, perhaps not academically outstanding, but his brain is always ticking along, even when it is being numbed by repetitive form filling and box ticking.

Gideon is very interested in the arts. He always liked music, but after graduating from Hogwarts and moving to London he fell in love with muggle artist like Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. It started with him curiously walking into a muggle record shop and buying a few singles, now he is hooked on Ginsberg’s poetry, and Robert Mapplethorpe’s photography. Particularly Mapplethorpe. Gid really likes that they don’t move, like a one way mirror, he can take as much as he likes from the photo but it doesn’t take anything back, it almost feels like a secret, and being a twin, he doesn’t get too many of those. A couple of years back he picked up a guitar, and now he can play a few chords or pick a few tunes. He also likes to scribble down ideas whenever he gets a chance, half finished lines of poetry or prose litter his apartment collecting coffee stains and dust.. Sometimes he thinks maybe he was meant to be an artist, but he brushes those thoughts quickly away.

Gideon isn’t great at relationships anymore. A couple of years ago he had a fling with a guy at the ministry called Anthony. Gid fell head over heals, he felt it was a lot more than a fling, but Anthony insisted that it was just a bit of fun. He didn’t allow Gid to tell anyone, explaining that his family wouldn’t be very understanding if they found out, and at first he was fine with that. At first everything was spectacular. But eventually Gid ended up giving a lot more into the relationship than he was getting back. Gid was essentially at his boyfriend’s beck and call, but if Gid ever had a bad day, Anthony always had some excuse for why he couldn’t come over. It went as far as Gid being guilt tripped into missing the birth of one of his nephews because his boyfriend had a cold and needed looking after. Anthony often asked to borrow money from Gideon and although Gideon barely had anything to give, he would give it freely, to the point where the boyfriend spent money Gid needed for food on a new pair of shoes. Anthony would near constantly flirt with people infront of Gid, but if Gid so much as looked at someone else the wrong way, Anthony would fly into a jealous rage. In short Gid was miserable, but he was living in those moment of blissful hope where Anthony would make him feel like the only person in the entire world who was worth a damn. Unfortunately, those moment became few and far between. Eventually someone (probably Fabian, let’s be honest) got worried about how far Gid had declined from his old chipper self, and intervened. Gid had to break up with Anthony, and after a tumultuous on again off again period Gid finally broke ties completely. On the outside it appeared like Gid soon bounced back to his old self, but underneath he still carries the scars of the relationship. He finds it hard to commit, or trust people’s affection, the insecurity that probably lead to the relationship getting so out of hand in the first place, even more pronounced now. He never thought he would be sucked into abuse like that, always the first to speak up about other people’s injustices, but he quickly found out it was much different when he was submerged in the situation himself.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: Right, I was thinking about this the other day, and I think it would be really very useful to have a spell that let me see round corners. Because, the other day, I was in the arse end of London, at a pub, a muggle pub I should add, those places are crazy! But anyway, I needed the toilet quite badly, I stumbled in, there are just two stalls, neither of them have door so I storm into one, and there’s two people furious shagging on the loo, now, if I’d been able to see round that corner, I would have made a strategic retreat before getting anyway close to that cubicle. Although, I suppose, being in muggle London, I couldn’t have used magic anyway. And really, if I hadn’t been so drunk I might have taken the loud moaning and groaning as a cue too. But, you get my point! It would be a handy thing to have up your sleeve!

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: Fabian, of course, in this purely hypothetical situation that we have never done before because it is completely FORBIDDEN and not allowed at all. But I’d probably bring a packet of smokes, maybe something a little stronger, Fabian could bring a wireless because I’m cheating and assuming he’s getting one item too. Then we could find a nice little clearing somewhere and relax far away from the troubles of the world, closer to the very real troubles of getting speared by an angry centaur. Again, like I said, a purely hypothetical situation.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? It takes me forever to decide what to eat at restaurants, everything sounds so good, the whole place smells amazing, the guy across from me has something on his plate that looks delicious, but it’s all so expensive! Maybe I’ll just have a salad. Oh no, but you’re ordering a steak and my mouth will water the whole meal, Screw it! Bring out three pheasants, oysters and a bucket of champagne!

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? That I don’t care about something I definitely do care about. I don’t care if someone says I don’t care enough about signing Stacy’s leaving card, because honestly I spoke to Stacy once and I really don’t care about signing her leaving card. But if someone dared say I didn’t care about my family, they were have a hex coming their way. I know sometimes I can come off a little nonchalant because I like to have a good time, but that does not mean I don’t care. I care way too much for it to be discarded by an offhand comment from someone who has no idea what they’re talking about.

WRITING SAMPLE

It was the hottest day of the year so far. Gid could feel the sweat making his shirt stick to his back, his school tie and cloak had long since abandoned. Nearly everybody was down by the lake. Couples were sitting on the grass enjoying the last light of the sun giving their significant other’s acne clad faces a golden glow. Groups of friends pretended to do their homework whilst exchanging the latest gossip and daring each other to throw things at the squid. And then there was Gideon and Fabian. They stood apart from the rest, purveying over the scene in front of them. Gideon was relatively satisfied by the turnout, of course, the poor fools didn’t yet realise they had turned out for anything.

“You definitely set the timer up right?” Gideon asked Fab as they waited.

“Yes, definitely. Any second now.”

“Really? Because that’s what you said last time. Remember how disappointing that was. Just a good job we didn’t advertise this time.” Gideon smiled despite himself and Fabian gave an amused huff.

“Any second n-”

Fabian was cut off by the abrupt explosion from across the lake. Reds and greens and purples burst into the twilight sky. Flowers and streamers of light illuminating the faces of the Hogwarts populations as they looked on in avid fascination. Gideon very nearly fist bumped the air. The fireworks were an incredible success. People were gasping and laughing and screaming.

People were screaming.

Gideon came too. He was on his knees, sweat slick hair stuck to his face and his head hung uselessly on his chest. His hand clenched around his wand feebly at first, then stronger. People were screaming. They were running. They were terrified. Someone booted his leg as they ran past and stumbled over his inanimate body. He barely felt it.

His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. Just dust, the thickest cloud of dust, he couldn’t even make out the ground in front of him. He struggled to remember where he was.

He had lit a fuse. He had been told to light a fuse. He had thought it would be a good idea. He had thought it would make a difference. Now people were screaming. There was a baby crying somewhere. The dust and chaos cleared fractionally and Gideon could make out the wreckage of the blast.

What had he done? He tried to get to his feet, but his legs wouldn’t work. He dragged himself over to a wall, he couldn’t breath. Every time he drew in a breath, he sucked in the dust and began to cough. He would die here. He couldn’t breath. He had killed people here. Innocent people. The baby had stopped crying. He had to get out.

#Accepted App

[hannibalcreative]

Hannibal Creative’s #EatTheRare Fic Roundup

A thousand thanks to @breannadolly for the wonderful banner! 

Special Dreams by Edge_sama

Summary: Set after the kiss scene from Fromage (S1E8). Both Will and Alana felt their decision to have a professional relationship was a good one, but they couldn't help but think in each other after that kiss.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Will Graham, Alana Bloom

Willana

Waste a Moment by 11Mydesign11 and Destinyawakened

Summary: Nigel wakes in the United States in a hospital bed. The FBI want answers for a few things, but Nigel's more interested in the guy down the hall with a smile carved into his belly.

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Alana Bloom, Nigel

Will Graham/Nigel

Hunting Scene by Cinnamaldeide

Summary: Their light steps betrayed the solitary nature of their selective pack, which likewise included no more than two individuals; much like a lone predator instructing its progeny.

Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Garrett Jacob Hobbs

Gen ( no pairings)

Where Is It? by TigerPrawn and victorine

Summary: Hugh takes revenge when he sees Mads is sharing clothes with other co-stars. Well, if Mads is going to wear Ben's jacket instead of his cute leather one, Hugh will just keep the damn thing!! Part of the Mad Bear & Little Pup Madancy AU Series - Neither Mads or Hugh are married but have been in a secret casual relationship since King Arthur. As both their careers were taking off they didn't want it all foreshadowed by a relationship and the celeb gossip that goes with it. Both remain single and they see each other when they can on and off over the years. Feels and hilarity ensue.

Mature

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Hugh Dancy, Mads Mikkelsen

Madancy

More Interesting Than the Average Conference by hchannibloom (bleepin_ufo)

Summary: Bedelia Du Maurier attends a conference and chances upon a bright, delicious young Alana Bloom

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alana Bloom, Bedelia du Maurier

Bloomdelia (Alana Bloom/Bedelia Du Maurier)

A Necessary Lie by starkaryen, FlyingRotten

Summary: Adam Towers is investigating what could be the article of the year if the rumors about Evelio Thanatos' experiments happen to be true. What he didn't expect, though, was to find a distraction in the Thanatos house, but that's exactly what he finds in Elias... Or, at least, that's what he thinks.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Adam Towers, Elias

Basic Chickens

A Flexible Arrangement by Hannibalsimagopurplesocrates

Summary: Allan is trying to rebuild his life on his return from the Hague and has been told he needs to take yoga classes as part of his anger management. Begrudgingly he agrees but soon is distracted by a man wearing pink shorts who seems even more broken that he is. Allan needs to know more about this ellusive man but can't seem to catch him to talk to him. That is until they crash into each other and have no choice but to get to know each other.

Explicit

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Lucas, Allan Fischer

Allan Fischer x Lucas

And So the Flamingo Fell in Love With the Wolf by CarpeDiemForLife

Summary: When Chilton shows up on Will's doorstep, bloodied and desperate, Will has every intention of turning him over to the FBI. But then he hears something that changes his mind. Canon divergence 2x07. My take on what could have happened if Will had chosen to harbor Chilton rather than call Jack.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Will Graham, Frederick Chilton

Chilly Willy

Once upon a dream by 11Mydesign11 and You_Are_As_Alone_As_I_Am

Summary: A young pop star - Prince Charmont - is being stalked by a dangerous, threatening fan, and is compelled to hire a personal bodyguard, a well respected man named Draco. As they get to know each other, sparks fly, and the hunt is on for Char's stalker.

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Charmont, Draco

Clash Enchanted

One Night in Miami by vix_spes

Summary: Being back in Miami was hardly how Luke had envisaged it but a mysterious man in black might just turn things around.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Le Chiffre, Luke Brandon

Le Chiffre x Luke Brandon

A certain liquidity of the eye by levi163

Summary: War is not the place for love, and yet, a gaze held a moment too long changes everything.

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett, Citron/Jørgen Haagen Schmith

Lonely Soldiers

Lead Me Home by Firuflies and starkaryen

Summary: After the difficulties both Lucas and Joe had to overcome in their past, they decide it's time for a new beginning. It turns out, they end up teaching in the same school in Copenhagen.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Lucas, Joe Connor

Luconnor

The Overthrown Prince by AlexandraCole

Summary: Amidst the civil war in Kyrria, Prince Char is captured and taken prisoner in a foreign land. He knows he will have to escape if he is ever to return to Frell and reclaim his throne, but his only hope is a child and a mute, one-eyed man Char isn’t sure he can trust.

Explicit

Graphic Depictions of Violence

Charmont, One Eye

Valhalla Enchanted (Charmont/One Eye)

Time and Death by FrostyLee

Summary: More talks of death and time, maybe something in between.

Unrated

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Hannibal Lecter, Lee Fallon

Lee Fallon/Hannibal Lecter

The Fair Lady's Game by shiphitsthefan

Summary: Dr Hannibal Lecter has enjoyed a casual long-distance relationship with Bedelia Du Maurier for years. As an opera diva and popular starlet, Bedelia’s rendezvous with him are typically short, whirlwind affairs. Hannibal fell in love with Bedelia the first day they met, but respects her wish to remain an independent woman, though it pains him to do so. Only Hannibal’s friend and adventuring companion, consulting detective William Graham, can solve the case for romance. His methods for doing so, however, remain as unusual as ever.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Abigail Hobbs, Bedelia du Maurier, Jack Crawford, Chiyoh

Bedannibal

Infamous by Ruby BakeNeko

Summary: Nigel is at a bar, looking for someone to pick up. He meets Will, a man who is both antagonistic and irresistible. Unbeknownst to Nigel, he looks a lot like someone Will knows.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Will Graham, Nigel

DogsDogs (Will x Nigel)

Putting the Pieces Back Together by vix-spex

Summary: A year ago, Lucas built a new life for himself away from Denmark. The start of the new school year brings him something that he hadn't realised he wanted.

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Lucas, Joe Connor

Luconnor

Of magic and love by FhimeChan

Summary: A normal wednesday afternoon in the life of Char and Draco. Since they live in an enchanted kingdom, how can a day pass without a magical emergency?

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Charmont, Draco

Clash Enchanted

A fleeting taste of freedom by hchannibloom (bleepin_ufo)

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, Hannibal and Alana are left alone. They decide to take a few precious moments of freedom.

Explicit

Major Character Death

Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom

Hannibloom

Death and Time by FrostyLee

Summary: Talks of teacups and time were over, now there needs to be talks of death and time.

Teen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Lee Fallon, Tobias Budge, Cathy Jamison

Hannibal Lecter/Lee Fallon

Thunder Follows Lightning by QueenofLit

Summary: Gideon is speaking words his soul knows. Instead of moving to speak of Alana Bloom, however, he mentions Garret Jacob Hobbs. Will's life shatters to pieces as the waves rear up in response to the ferocity of lightning's strike, but warm hands lead him up and away to safety in the clouds of the storm. He can hear the thunder of an oncoming storm, and it is soothing to know that the lightning will never leave him.

Unrated

No Archive Warnings Apply, Dubious consent

Will Graham, Abel Gideon

Will Graham/Abel Gideon

stay with me under these waves tonight by MargaretKire

Summary: Elias responds to a desperate mayday during a storm. He finds a ship-wrecked Adam.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Adam Towers, Elias

Basic Chickens

Ghosts of the past by hchannibloom

Summary: After the events at the Verger Estate, Alana reflects on her relationship with Hannibal.

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, Margot Verger

Hannibloom

Map of the Problematique by 11Mydesign11, Destinyawakened and Identically_Different

Summary: Lucas is on the hunt for a new life in California, what he doesn't expect to find is an Omega who pulls so hard at his heartstrings that he can't live without him, even through the ups and downs, and the trials of trust.

Explicit

Major Character Death, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Lee Fallon, Lucas

BearHunt

Better Things by whatkindofcrazy

Summary:

Explicit

No Archive Warnings Apply

Tonny, Roberto Bellini

Toberto

Craving by hannibalsbattlebot

Summary: "You realize those candidates thought we were having an affair. Why didn't we?" "You were already having an affair." This fic assumes that the affair Hannibal was already having was with Donald Suttcliffe. It explores a possible past which may have lead to them working together to deceive Will Graham about his encephalitis. Donald Suttcliffe and Hannibal Lecter meet in medical school and have a long tangled relationship which leads them to the scene in Suttcliffe's office in Buffet Froid

Mature

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Hannibal Lecter, Donald Sutcliffe

Hannibal Lecter/Donald Sutcliffe

Pumpkin Spice by Llewcie

Summary: Le Chiffre is in need of a bodyguard. No, not that bodyguard.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Le Chiffre, Buddy Wittenborn

Royale Evening (Le Chiffre/Buddy)

Moonlight by starkaryen

Summary: Char decided to go on a little trip with the royal doctor, Johann.

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Johann Struensee, Charmont

Charmont/Johann Struensee

Leaf Piles by Llewcie

Summary: Lucas takes his new dog for a walk. She's not as good on a leash as she could be, and she gets away from him, right into his cute neighbour's newly raked leaf piles.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Lucas, Joe Connor

Luconnor

#Hannictober: Pumpkin Spice by shiphitsthefan

Summary: #Hannictober: Pumpkin Spice [Bedelia/Will/Hannibal college AU]

Unrated

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia du Maurier

Bedannigram (Bedelia x Will x Hannibal)

Luck Against Wisdom by creepypastaprimavera

Summary: When her son asks for a bedtime story, Alana adapts a Jewish folktale to tell the story of how she met Margot.

Teen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Alana Bloom, Margot Verger

Marlana

Pile of Leaves by shiphitsthefan

Summary: Bedelia/Will/Hannibal college/dancer AU

Gen

No Archive Warnings Apply

Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham, Bedelia du Maurier

Bedannibal, Willdelia, Bedannigram

#eattherare #fic #roundups

[unfolded73]

What Comes Next (2/8)

Summary: They lived happily ever after. And then what happened? (A Post-S6 story.)  Starts about a week after the final battle, and explores the highs and lows of newly married life between Emma and Killian as they deal with work, friends, and family as life in Storybrooke settles down somewhat.

Captain Swan, Explicit overall, ~3700 words this chapter

Thanks to @j-philly-b for the beta.

CHAPTER 1

“Nice gig you’ve got here,” Killian said, leaning against the doorway of the empty room where Emma was sitting on the hardwood floor with her baby brother. Neal squealed and threw his stuffed bear for approximately the fiftieth time, and Emma leaned backwards to grab it and hand it to him again. This little game had kept him happily entertained for going on half an hour now. 

“Hey, my job is very important. I keep Neal occupied and out of the way while you big strong men carry boxes.” As promised, they were helping her parents move into the new house, which their meager possessions from the loft were not coming anywhere close to filling. Given her own relatively large house and both her and Killian’s tendency to travel light, Emma could sympathize. 

Killian snorted and lifted a water bottle to his mouth to drink. Emma watched his throat work, the way it glistened with sweat from his exertions. He’d chosen to forgo a jacket or vest, and had rolled his sleeves up to the elbow, exposing his brace on one side and his bare forearm on the other. He looked absolutely delicious. 

“Seriously, though, we can trade off if you want,” she offered.

“No need; we’re almost done.” Neal threw his bear again, then pitched himself over onto his hands and crawled after it, babbling the whole time. “The lad there isn’t going to know what to do with all this space.” 

“I know.” She stood up and stretched out her back. “It’s a little bit sad, them not being at the loft anymore. I mean, don’t get me wrong, this house is great, but I’ll still miss that old place. A lot of stuff happened there.” 

“Why, Swan, I didn’t think you were so sentimental,” he said, sidling up to her. Emma continued to stare at the sweat in the hollow of his throat. 

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, you picked me up for our first date there. You’re not a little bit sentimental about it?” 

“No, I am. I have very fond memories of wooing you in that apartment.” He reached for her, stroking his hook up and down her arm, making her skin break out in goosebumps. “But the memories are ours no matter what happens to the place.” 

Emma wrapped her arms around him, his shirt damp with sweat under her palms. “That’s true.” She leaned in close, anticipating the saltiness of his skin on her tongue, but before she could act there was a plaintive cry behind her. 

Neal seemed to have crawled until he’d bumped into the wall, and now he sat whimpering under one of the windows. With a sigh, Emma walked over and scooped her baby brother into her arms. 

“Oh, here you guys are,” Snow said from the doorway. “David’s going to order some pizzas for everyone. Any preferences?” 

“Killian hates pepperoni, loves anchovies, and likes pretty much everything else. Even pineapple,” Emma said as she bounced Neal on her hip to soothe him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with pineapple on a pizza, Swan--” 

“It’s an abomination, Killian.” 

Snow smiled at them both indulgently. “Okay, well, everything’s unloaded from the truck, and you can help yourselves to beer from the fridge.” 

“Mamamamama,” Neal whined, reaching for Snow, who accepted him from Emma’s arms automatically, before she turned and headed to the kitchen. 

“I’ll just go check and see if your father needs anything else done,” Killian said, brushing his lips against Emma’s cheek before he moved off toward another part of the house. 

Snow put Neal in his high chair and started peeling a banana and feeding it to him in little pieces. “I’ll admit, I cried when we locked up the old apartment for the last time,” she said. “So many memories.” 

“We were just talking about that,” Emma said, sitting on one of her mother’s old stools. This new kitchen didn’t have anything resembling a breakfast bar, so the stools seemed orphaned and out-of-place. 

“I’ve been so busy with the move, I haven’t even had a chance to check in with you lately. How’s everything going?” 

Emma watched as Neal squished banana between his fingers, opening his hand against his face and getting some fraction of the fruit into his mouth. “It’s fine.” 

Snow regarded her for a few seconds. “Are you sure?” 

Sighing heavily, Emma stood up again, feeling fidgety. “It honestly is fine, I’m not lying about that. It’s just… have you ever heard of people who think they’re going to die of cancer and then go into remission, that they get depressed afterwards? It’s almost like, I spent so long preparing myself for the worst, for the prophecy of my death, for losing the final battle, that now that we’ve won, and now that life has sort of settled into a pattern, I feel… strange. Empty, I guess.” 

“Oh, sweetie, I’ve gotta think that’s normal after everything you went through.” 

Emma bit her lip, feeling the sudden urge to cry. “But I feel guilty for not being happier. I have everything I wanted. A husband that I love so much, and family, and a job I like and a nice house. Being unsatisfied when I have all of that is so stupid.” 

“You went through a trauma, Emma. Several of them. I mean, did you and Killian have any time at all to process his dying and being resurrected before the next crisis hit?” Snow put another piece of banana on Neal’s tray. 

“Not really.” 

“And then right on the heels of that, you get told that you’re destined to die. And that the final battle is coming. All the while you and Killian are going through so many important changes in your relationship, moving in together, getting engaged--” 

“Twice,” Emma added. 

“Twice,” Snow agreed. “And there was our sleeping curse, and then you almost lost him again, and then the wedding, getting separated again, the battle, Gideon stabbing you… Emma, if you weren’t reeling from all of that, you wouldn’t be human.” 

Emma reached back and tightened her ponytail. “Okay, when you put it like that…” 

Snow gave her a sympathetic smile. “I guess your week off wasn’t as idyllic as I hoped it was.” 

“No, it was.” Emma smiled, her cheeks heating. “But I think I was distracting myself with sex.” 

Snow’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Actually, yeah, that makes sense. It’s hormones.” 

“What?” 

“There’s a hormone they give you in the hospital to induce labor, but it’s also released naturally when nursing, and during, you know. Orgasm. And one of the things it does is give you a feeling of well-being. So in a way, you were self-medicating.” 

“Huh.” Emma frowned. “How do you know about that?” 

Snow shrugged. “It was in a baby book, I think. The point is, you have every right to feel the way you’re feeling. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it or try to hide it.” 

“Pizza’s on the way,” David announced as he and Killian joined them in the kitchen. 

Killian positioned himself behind Emma’s stool, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. 

David got another beer out of the fridge and turned to her. “Listen, while we’re waiting, Emma, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and now is probably as good a time as any.” 

“Actually, David--” Snow started, but he cut her off. 

“This isn’t going to just be a new house for us, it’s going to be a whole new lifestyle. I’d like to try my hand at farming again, like my father did.” Emma glanced back at Killian, but he was looking at the floor. “Emma, when I started working for the sheriff’s department, it was a matter of necessity because you were trapped in the Enchanted Forest. And I’ve loved working with you, but it’s never been what I’ve wanted to do forever.” 

Her heart plummeted. “You’re leaving,” she said flatly. 

“Only once you find a new deputy; I’m not going to leave you in the lurch. And when you and Killian take that honeymoon trip, I can fill in for you, so don’t worry about that.” 

Emma took a shaky breath and stood, picking up Neal’s dropped sippy cup from the floor to give herself something to do. “Yeah, I mean, I get it…” 

An apology for David’s poorly-timed announcement was plain on Snow’s face even as she tried to smile. “We had an idea, though, of someone who might want to take over as sheriff’s deputy.” 

“Yeah, we thought maybe Killian might be interested,” David said. 

Killian looked up from his beer, surprised. “What, me? In law enforcement? You’re joking.” 

Emma looked at him, considering. She knew he wouldn’t think so, but he’d actually be great at it, she thought. 

“Much as the idea of supporting Emma in her job is appealing,” Killian went on, “I’m a pirate.” 

“Yeah, but kind of in name only,” David said. “You’re also the prince consort.” 

“Didn’t I say never to call me that, mate?” Killian scratched behind his ear. 

“The people of Storybrooke have seen you fighting at Emma’s side; they know you’re a hero, and that you’ve worked to protect them on multiple occasions,” Snow said. “I think it’s a perfect fit.” 

“I… agree,” Emma said. “That is, if you want to do it.” 

“The only downside I see is that the two of you might get sick of each other, spending so much time together,” Snow said as she wiped the banana off of Neal’s face and hands with a damp towel. 

“Never,” Killian proclaimed, coming over and putting his arm around Emma. “After all the times we’ve been separated against our will, I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than being at your side every day.” He dropped his voice. “But are you certain you want me as your deputy, love?” 

Emma felt a smile blooming on her face. “Yeah, I’m sure. I think you’d make a great deputy.” She put her arm around his lower back, her other hand drifting to his chest as it so often did. “Plus, we can make out in the supply closet.” 

~*~ 

“Yeah, but we could get a car with an attachment on the steering wheel for your hook,” Emma was saying as they walked toward the Bug. “Or you could get a special prosthetic for driving. Anything you want.” 

David had spent a few more days at the station, ostensibly training Killian although mostly it looked like they were goofing off any time Emma came upon them. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her husband and her father being such good friends; it seemed a good thing on the surface, but she couldn’t help thinking it was gonna get her in trouble one of these days. 

Now they were going out on patrol together for the first time, and Emma was feeling pretty happy, all things considered. Even so, the double whammy of her parents moving to the edge of town and then her father quitting the sheriff’s department still stung, when she thought too hard about it. She knew intellectually that it was all for the best, but the lost little girl inside her couldn’t help but feel abandoned. 

Killian, with his smile and his workplace-inappropriate wandering hand, provided a welcome distraction. 

“And you’re going to teach me to pilot an automobile?” he said as he opened the passenger door to her car. 

“Sure, I could. Or Dad probably could.” She sat down in the driver’s seat and felt something in her pocket poking her in the leg. “Oh, I almost forgot!” she said, lifting her hips and digging in the pocket of her jeans while Killian sat beside her and watched with interest. Emma pulled out the deputy’s badge, the very one that she’d worn when she first worked for Graham, and held it up. “I found this for you.” 

Killian eyed it with discomfort. While he seemed pleased to be working with her, he still shied away from the idea of himself as an officer of the law. After so many years of ignoring the law, she supposed that made sense. She’d felt that way herself at first. 

“Here,” she said, unfastening the clasp and leaning over. “Can I pin it on you?” 

“Be my guest, love.” 

Emma put the pin through the fabric of Killian’s vest, careful not to prick him with it. “That’s ‘Sheriff’ to you, Deputy,” she said, grinning. 

When she was done, he looked down at the shiny badge and adjusted it with his fingers. “So, I’m your deputy,” he said, smiling. “Does that carry over into the bedroom, darling? Because I’ll happily take orders from you there as well.” 

Emma rolled her eyes, grinning in spite of herself. “We should probably try to be marginally professional while we’re at work, Killian.” 

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” 

“Sh.. sheriff, this is Dispatch, over,” came a voice from the radio. 

It sounded like Bashful working the dispatch desk, she thought as she picked up the mouthpiece and pressed the button. “This is Sheriff Swan.” 

“A robbery was reported at 427 Spruce Street. Victim’s name is Moe French,” Bashful reported. “O...over.” 

“Got it; we’re on our way.” She put the radio mouthpiece down, pointing to the bubble light she kept in the Bug for just this purpose. “Can you put the light out for me?” 

“Another break-in, like at Granny’s?” he asked as he reached out of the car window and affixed the light to the top of the car. 

“Could be,” Emma said, pulling out of her parking space and making a U-turn on Main Street to head toward Belle’s father’s shop. They arrived at Game of Thorns after only a few minutes. “Look at this, our first case together,” she said, grinning at Killian.

“Aye.” He held the door to the flower shop open for her. “After you, Sheriff.” 

Moe sat behind the counter, his face red with anger. “I came in this morning to find the lock on the back door broken, and all the cash in the register gone,” he said to them without greeting or preamble. “The crime rate in this town is getting out of control, and I want to know what you’re going to do about it, Sheriff.” 

“Killian, why don’t you go check out the back door?” Emma said, trying to maintain her cool in the face of Moe’s anger. Killian shot her a look that asked, are you sure? She nodded, and he went. 

“Anything else missing other than the cash?” she asked, pulling out a notepad. 

“Isn’t that enough?” he shouted, and then seemed to wilt a little. “I apologize; I’m just upset.” 

“I understand,” she said evenly. 

“I didn’t notice anything else missing. There were a couple of overturned vases,” he said, pointing to a small mess next to the doorway to the back of the shop, “but not like the place had been torn apart.” 

“More like the thief was just clumsy,” Emma mused. 

“The back door was forced open; the lock wasn’t picked.” Killian shook his head. “No finesse at all with these thieves.” 

“Yeah, it was the same at Granny’s. Could be a pattern,” she said. “You aren’t missing any trinkets, are you, Moe? Anything small you had around here that the thief might take as a souvenir?” 

He looked around and shrugged. “Not that I can tell.” 

“If anything comes to mind, let us know. We may be dealing with the same person who robbed Granny’s a couple of weeks ago,” she said. “We’ll check for any fingerprints and any other evidence as soon as I’m done taking your statement. I assure you, we’ll do everything we can to find who did this.” 

Moe deflated further. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Sheriff. I’m just worried about… personal things.” His eyes went to Killian. “Have you spoken to my daughter lately? You know she went back to him?” 

Killian looked decidedly uncomfortable. “Aye, I’m aware.” 

“Well, can’t you do something? I know you helped her before, when she left him. I know she’d listen to you,” Moe said. 

“They just went through a massive ordeal with Gideon,” Emma said. “I think Belle and Gold are probably focused on the fact that they got their baby back, and not so much on their past, or maybe on their relationship at all.” Not that she knew for sure, no one had really seen either of them since the final battle, but Snow had heard from Belle that they were fine and were spending some time alone together as a family. 

“He’s going to hurt her again. Or he’ll hurt my grandson,” Moe said, pain evident in his voice. “He may have the best of intentions, he may even love her, but he’s the Dark One. The Black Fairy was his mother. Everything he touches, he’ll eventually pollute with that darkness.” 

Emma shared a look with Killian, remembering her own time as the Dark One. Remembering his. She couldn’t very well argue with what Moe was saying, given their own experiences with the corrupting influence of that darkness. 

“Belle is a grown woman,” Killian said. “If she comes to me, of course I will always do anything within my power to help her. We both will. But it’s not my place to try to break up another couple’s marriage, no matter my personal feelings.” 

Moe grimaced, his fist on the counter clenched so hard his knuckles were white. “How many times in one lifetime must a man mourn the loss of his only daughter?” 

~*~ 

“Moe French was right,” Killian said as he was getting undressed for bed several days later. 

Snow had at first suggested a re-do of their wedding reception, since it had been cut so short by the Black Fairy’s curse, but Emma immediately vetoed that idea. The last thing she had wanted to deal with, given her fragile emotional state lately, was a huge party. She’d talked her mother down to a small dinner party at Granny’s with just family invited. And due in part to the fact that Gold was Henry’s grandfather (but likely due in larger part to Snow wanting to see baby Gideon for herself), Belle and Gold had been invited. Everyone had been cordial, and Emma had thought the evening had gone very well -- or as well as a dinner party with three babies at it could possibly go -- so she was surprised with Killian’s statement. 

“About Belle?” she asked as she took out her earrings. “Why would you say that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so happy.”

Killian’s expression was dark. “They’re like lambs, Belle and Gideon, unaware that they’re living with a wolf.” 

“Okay, one, you’re committed to crocodile; you can’t change animals now. Two, I’m glad Ruby’s not around to hear you bad-mouthing wolves that way. And three, Belle’s not a lamb. She knows exactly what he’s capable of.” 

Killian didn’t acknowledge her witty reply (if she did say so herself). “You didn’t see him do to her what I saw, back when she was staying on my ship. As long as everything’s going his way, he’s fine. He’s probably a model husband. But as soon as things don’t go his way, he’ll turn on her.” 

All of the half-hearted argument drained out of her. “Yeah. I know.” Emma walked into their en-suite bathroom and closed the door. She didn’t know what else she could say. She knew Killian was probably right, but she also didn’t know what they could do about it. With a heavy sigh, she pulled her underwear down and sat on the toilet to pee. 

“And if she tries to leave him again with that child?” Killian said, opening the door to the bathroom and walking in. “He’ll never allow that to happen. He’ll do everything in his power to control her and keep her from leaving.” 

“Babe, I’m on the toilet.” 

He looked at her and blinked. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“So maybe don’t come barging into the bathroom when I’m on the toilet,” she grumbled, wiping herself, standing, and pulling her underwear up. 

“My apologies, love.” 

“It’s okay.” She flushed, and then bumped his hip with hers so that she could get in front of the sink to wash her hands. “So are you going to say something to her? What about the stuff you said to Moe? That she’s a grown woman? That’s still true.” 

He looked at himself in the mirror and wiped his hand over his face. “I know. But I could talk to her. Not to try to talk her into anything, but just to check on how she’s doing, and to make it clear that we’re here if she ever needs us.” 

Emma leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a good friend, you know that?” 

One side of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. 

“And a good husband.” She kissed his cheek again before grabbing her toothbrush. “Even when you do walk in on me peeing.” 

Killian pulled her into a hug, tickling her side and making her squirm and huff against his bare chest. “I’m intimately acquainted with every inch of your body, darling. Seeing you relieving yourself is no matter.” 

“Yeah, but you should only associate my body with fun, sexy stuff, not gross, bathroom stuff.” She wrinkled her nose. 

“Emma, I plan to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

She smiled. “Yeah, same.” 

“And I’m hoping that will be a good fifty years or more, aye? So I imagine there will be some gross stuff in that time, bathroom and otherwise.” 

She kissed him on the lips. “See? You’re a good husband.” 

He dragged his hand around to her ass and squeezed. “And for the record, if your body were any more fun and sexy, I’d have perished by now.” 

Emma giggled, and pulled his head down to kiss him thoroughly.

CHAPTER 3

#my fic #what comes next fic #cs ff #captain swan ff #post s6 fic #emma and snow #captain swan #anti rumple #anti rumbelle

[ancientbooshartifacts]

In the Band

Author: Accio_arse

Year: 2008

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Howard/Rudi

Howard was, quite frankly, astounded. Here he was- Howard T.J. Moon, easily the greatest jazz player Yorkshire had ever seen, a legend in his own right- and he was on the verge of getting booted out of his own band. It was pathetic. He, he constantly reminded himself, was the one who'd come up here to play jazz in the first place, he was the one who'd started the bloody band! And it had been fantastic; he and Mrs. Gideon had been the king and queen of the Blue Aubergine. Together they had enraptured crowds, spun many-layered bebop duets- they were the toast of the town. And then had come Rudi. Rudi bloody Van Di-bloody-Sarnio, with his ridiculous Afro and his pompous, pretentious dress, and his door. Who had a door in their head, anyway? Howard had scoffed at Rudi when he had said, in that slow, measured way of his that he had gained the door because he was wise, that it allowed him to see beyond. Humph. And humph a-bloody-gain. Howard was wise! Howard was a guru; people climbed mountains to see Howard and get his advice on life. Or they would have, if Howard had lived on top of a mountain. The point was- Howard didn't need a door to be wise, he didn't need to put on airs and affectations. He was Howard Moon, and there was a simple truth to him that people appreciated. Except, apparently, Mrs. Gideon. For the instant Rudi had come swanning into their lives with his idiotic, affected 'rustic wisdom' and his jazz fusion guitar, she had attached herself to him like a particularly clingy limpet and hadn't looked at Howard since. She couldn't even remember his name anymore. And Howard couldn't lie; his music had suffered. But should it not have? Jazz, after all, was Howard's heart and soul, and between Mrs. Gideon and Rudi, both heart and soul had been fairly thoroughly trampled upon. He sighed, sitting at the empty bar, and ran a hand over the top of his trumpet case. The name label on it was now curling away at the corners, and unless you smoothed it out, it read Howard T.J. Moo. Moo, Howard thought bitterly, That's all I am. A great bloody useless cow He'd tried to plead his case with Mrs. Gideon, had begged her (in a dignified, gentlemanly fashion, of course) to let him stay in the band, to remember all the good times they'd had together, the music they'd made, but to no avail. Granted, he might have chosen a bad time to talk to her, as she had been practising scales at the time, taking calculated swigs of whiskey in between arpeggios to get the right 'cigarettes and booze' quality to her voice, and hadn't even noticed Howard standing there. Once he'd finished his beautifully constructed monologue on why he was an integral part of the group, she'd merely looked up from the piano, blinked at him, and inquired politely 'Excuse me, do I know you?' He groaned at the memory. The only option left then, was Rudi. And Rudi had no particular fondness for Howard. Not that he ever acted spiteful or nasty towards him- he really didn't act like much of anything towards him. Howard, to Rudi, was simply a part of the scenery. But, on reflection, that was worse than outright malice would have been. Howard bristled. How on earth was he supposed to convince him that he was worthy to stay in the band? The situation seemed utterly hopeless, and Howard slumped at the bar, listlessly picking at a sticky spot on the counter with one fingernail.

Howard was not allowed to stew in his tortured self-pity for long though, for the faint sound of cloth rustling against cloth came from the back of the bar, and a voice echoed behind him.

'What is this, Howard Moon? You look like a man sunk deep within the depths of despair. A man, I daresay, in sore need of advice. Perhaps I can be of assistance.'

The voice was deep and mysterious, and it lisped slightly on its s's and t's. Rudi. Speak of the devil. Stiffly, Howard lifted his head up off the bar and gave the other man a quick, obviously feigned smile.

'Despair?' He forced a chuckle. 'No sir, not me! I was simply resting my head. Thinking deep thoughts, you know how it is.'

'Ahh.' Rudi nodded magisterially, and his afro wobbled precariously. He looked up at it in irritation and steadied it with a hand.That taken care of, he turned back to Howard. 'Thought, yes.' He intoned, 'That force which sustains us all, yet which we so often take for granted.'

He stared impressively off into space for a moment, and Howard had to restrain the urge to slap him. Instead, mindful of the fact that he somehow had to ingratiate himself to this infuriating man, he nodded, raising his eyebrows in agreement.

'Very true, sir.' He said. When Rudi added nothing else, Howard cleared his throat and swivelled 'round on his barstool until he could casually prop an elbow up on the counter and face Rudi.

'Say,' he began, ever so casually, 'I actually was looking for you earlier, Rudi. I, ah, had something I wanted to talk to you about.'

'Oh?' The other man looked intrigued, and Howard was about to elaborate when Rudi held up a quelling hand.

'No! Do not tell me. I know all things!'

Howard eyed him dubiously. Know all things, my arse, he thought, but once again, he kept his thoughts to himself. Rudi's face was screwed up in thought, and after a long moment, he snapped his fingers.

'Aha! I know what it is you seek, Howard Moon- you wish to know the secrets of eternal life, for I have seen that as you age, you will only grow more and more hideous-'

'Oi!' Howard interrupted him irritably. 'There's no need for that. And that wasn't what I wanted to know.'

Rudi looked terribly disappointed. 'Oh.'

‘What I wanted to talk about,’ Howard continued, picking up a bit of steam now, ‘was the band. What’s this about you and Mrs. Gideon chucking me, mmm? You’ve got talent, sir, I won’t deny it, but to come up and usurp my place- I, who founded the band in the first place on nothing more than a dream, sir- and a burning passion for jazz- that is bad form. Decidedly bad form.’

He halted and drew a breath, forcing himself to calm down somewhat. He was supposed to be ingratiating himself with Rudi, not picking a fight with the man. Howard cleared his throat and flashed a tiny, apologetic smile. ‘What I mean to say,’ he said, ‘Is that I would very much appreciate it, Rudi, if you and Mrs. Gideon would reconsider. There is no band without Howard Moon, sir, and you will learn that quickly if you get rid of me.’

‘Hmm.’ Rudi stroked his chin pensively, tapping a fingernail against his sizeable front teeth. ‘Perhaps,’ he said eventually, ‘Perhaps I will talk to the lady. And I myself would certainly be willing to listen to any arguments you might have.’

Oh, thank you! Howard was about to say- only in a way which seemed a little less desperate- but one long brown finger snapped up to silence him, and Rudi fixed tiny, intense eyes on him.

‘If,’ he continued simply, ‘you kiss my balls.’

Howard gaped. He knew what this was; this was one of those goddamn bloody tests that Rudi was so fond of- the flute test, or the pancake test, or sellotape test, or the Finnish Language Efficiency Test, or whatever. Howard knew the drill; he knew how these went, and he was just about to give the expected response, to say that there was no way he was going to kiss Rudi Van DiSarnio’s balls, when a novel thought struck him with all the force of a weighted cricket bat.

What would Rudi do if he said yes?   The man would be completely unprepared for the sheer, raw sexual power that was Howard Moon. That in itself might be enough to convince him to keep Howard in the band.   And Howard... well, it was shameful. Yes, it was very shameful, but he would be getting one up on Rudi by doing this!   And it wasn’t as if he was whoring himself out, anyway; it was his own decision. This in mind, he looked Rudi straight in the eyes and said:

‘Very well, sir.’

And just as he’d predicted, Rudi’s eyes went momentarily wide, and he began to stutter wildly.

‘I did not mean- that is- Rudi Van DiSarnio is a man above the pleasures of the flesh! I am of the order of the psychedelic monks, I do not-’

Howard smirked at him, now feeling much more sure of himself- he had never kissed a man’s balls, but it was a decidedly satisfying feeling, having this much power over another person- and slid off his stool to the ground before Rudi. The other man fell suddenly and conspicuously silent, and Howard heard an intake of breath above him. He focussed on the drape of Rudi’s robe before him, and lifted the hem, stroking fingers over the fabric. It was deceptively light, and almost slick against the pads his fingers, like silk. He raised an eyebrow up at Rudi.

‘Nice dress.’

‘It is not a dress!’ Rudi snapped, ‘It is the sacred robe of the psychedelic monks.’ The retort lacked its usual vigour, however.Indeed, it sounded decidedly strained, and looking up, Howard saw that Rudi was biting his lip and the handle on his door was rattling, as though it had been locked, and someone was trying desperately to get out.

And with that, he threw the hem of the robe over his head and ducked underneath. It suddenly felt curiously as though he’d entered another room entirely, centred bizarrely around a pair of dark legs; everything was dim and vaguely purple, and the air smelt of sweat and musk and man. Howard wrinkled his nose. The only problem, though, was that Howard couldn’t really see much, and he didn’t fancy having a go at another bloke’s bits when he couldn’t see them, so he ran a hand up one of Rudi’s legs until he simply ran into what he sought. The thigh muscle gave a great twitch beneath his hand.

And then there- yes indeed, Rudi’s bollocks, and above, the quickly hardening shape of his prick. Hesitantly at first, Howard ran a finger over the shape of them, then stroked with all his fingertips, before cupping the sac, weighing it in his hand. Dark and heavy, fuzzed over with wiry black hair, Howard found that they were not at all unpleasant to the touch; rather, they were warm and soft, and he gave a light squeeze. Above him, he heard Rudi choke out a curse. Trying not to inhale any more of the smell of Rudi’s sweat than he could help, Howard leant up and pressed a soft, close-lipped kiss to the warm, roused skin of them.

There, he thought, I’ve kissed your balls.

But he had the notion that now he’d started the thing, he might as well finish it properly. After all, if Howard Moon was to be a filthy ball-fondler, he was damn well going to be a good one.

He pressed his mouth to Rudi’s bollocks again, but this time he opened his lips and flicked his tongue out, drawing it up and over the heated flesh, drawing a patch of skin between his lips and sucking at it until Rudi was cursing in languages Howard had never even heard of. Again Howard did it, and again, his hands braced on Rudi’s thighs, which shuddered and quaked with the effort of keeping him upright. It was pleasurable in a strangely absorbing way, dragging his tongue over soft skin, sucking and licking everywhere he could reach. Even more enjoyable were the noises Rudi made, the quiver of his body under Howard’s ministrations.

Closer and closer he took him until:

‘Howard!’ Rudi gasped, ‘Remove yourself from under my robe, I’m- fuck- I’m almost-’

And hastily Howard did remove himself, for though he had, not moments before, literally been licking Rudi’s balls, he had no desire to get any of his bodily fluids on him. He straightened awkwardly to see Rudi palming himself desperately through the gorgeous silk of his robe, biting hard at his lip, little grunts escaping from the back of his throat. Howard’s mouth went dry watching him, and a little whimper tripped across his lips.

Suddenly, the door in Rudi’s head flew open and a rapturous cry tore itself from his throat; he surged up onto the balls of his feet and his whole body went rigid for a moment, save for the movement of his hips against his own hand. His face was twisted in ecstasy for one moment, two, three, before he sagged, collapsing against a table, breathing heavily.

‘Howard,’ he murmured, beckoning with a quick curl of two fingers, and Howard- suddenly awkward once again- shuffled over.Rudi let out another grunt, and Howard started when he saw a hand- identical to Rudi’s own- making its way out of the door in his head. It clutched a piece of paper, which Howard took nervously. Rudi smiled a lazy, sated sort of smile at him, and nodded at the paper.

‘Read of the wisdom of the door, Howard Moon.’

The paper crinkled loudly as Howard unfolded it, and once open, large, black-printed words stared back at him: You’re still not in the band. Sorry.

For a moment, Howard didn’t fully process what the paper said, his mind still fogged with what he’d just been doing, what he’d just seen. After that moment passed, however, and the message hit him, he looked at Rudi with renewed loathing.

‘You bastard.’ He said, and punched Rudi full in the face.

All things considered, it’s not really a wonder Howard didn’t play jazz after that.

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #howard moon #mrs.gideon #rudi van disarzio #rudi van disarnio #rudi van disarzio/Howard Moon #rudi/howard